The Pain in the Past
by WolfGirl1331
Summary: When one of Brennan's former foster siblings turns up murdered, the resulting investigation forces her to confront a past she has tried so hard to forget. Set in early Season 8. Please be aware that the subject of abuse is explored in this story.
1. Chapter 1

**I first mentioned this story idea back in February at the end of my last multi-chapter The Promise in the Candle, and now I'm finally getting around to writing it. I'm sorry it took me so long! Reviews feed my inner muse so please let me know what you think!**

 **This story is set in early Season 8 shortly before Sweets moved in with Booth and Brennan.**

Booth whistled as he poured some pancake mixture into the pan and watched it bubble away. Cooking breakfast for his family was something he took great pleasure in doing, especially since Brennan and Christine had returned from being on the run. The subject of who should cook breakfast had been a point of contention shortly after they had come home, but after some discussion they had been able to resolve the issues between them and get things back to normal, or as normal as things ever got in their lives.

Keeping an eye on the pancakes, Booth grabbed a banana and peeled off the skin before mashing it up in a bowl for Christine. He could hear his little girl squealing happily upstairs and his partner's corresponding laughter as she got their daughter dressed for the day. Placing the bowl on the plastic table on Christine's highchair, Booth flipped the pancakes over and set out some plates for himself and Brennan.

The laughter soon grew louder as Brennan appeared in the kitchen with Christine in her arms. Turning to face his family, Booth grinned and reached for his daughter.

"How's my girl this morning, huh? I've got some tasty banana here for you."

Booth slipped Christine into her highchair and leant forward to give Brennan a kiss on the cheek before turning back to the pancakes. Brennan turned her attention to Christine to help her with her banana, only to look up and smile at her partner as he resumed his earlier whistling.

"You're in a particularly jovial mood this morning, Booth."

Booth grinned as he dished up the pancakes, "Sure am, Bones! The sun is shining and I'm making breakfast for my beautiful girls. It's a good day!"

Brennan smiled and took the plate he held out to her. The months she had spent hiding out with Christine had been some of the hardest of her life, and it was mornings like this that reminded her how grateful she was to be back with Booth and the comfortable routines they had established.

There was a time when she thought such comfort and happiness were beyond her reach, and, even if she did manage to find them, that they wouldn't last. But although the fears borne from her traumatic childhood and years of fierce independence still sometimes reappeared, for the most part Brennan was able to happily embrace her shared life with Booth and their daughter.

Brennan's thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of Booth's cell phone. Grunting in annoyance and hurriedly swallowing his mouthful of pancakes, Booth grabbed the phone from the counter and answered.

Brennan only half listened to Booth's side of the conversation as she was distracted by the mess Christine had made with her banana, which she had apparently decided would be more fun to smear all over her face than put in her mouth. Brennan grabbed a cloth from the sink while Booth finished up his call.

Turning to him when she heard him hang up, Brennan asked, "Who was that?"

"Work," Booth answered as he moved to finish off the last of his pancakes, "We have a case. A body was found dumped in a landfill in Virginia, pretty badly decomposed apparently. The techs and squints will meet us there."

Brennan lifted Christine out of her highchair, "Okay, but we'll have to drop Christine off at day care first."

Handing Christine to Booth she added, "I'll be right back. I need to collect my things from upstairs."

"Okay, but don't take too long," Booth replied as he took hold of Christine, "You don't want anyone messing with your crime scene!"

Brennan threw a glare over her shoulder at his teasing and rushed upstairs. Booth smiled and rubbed his daughter's back affectionately, "Mommy gets really mad when people mess around with the evidence. Yes she does!"

Christine cooed in response while Booth went to the door to grab his jacket and wait for his partner.

)()()()()()()()(

Booth flinched as the foul smell of the landfill assaulted his nostrils.

"Damn," he muttered as he and Brennan got out of the car and headed over to the crime scene, "I'm never going to get used to that smell."

Brennan hurried ahead with her usual purposeful stride until she reached the hub of activity surrounding the body.

"Morning, Dr. Brennan," Cam smiled and stood aside to allow Brennan to take a closer look at the remains. Crouching down, Brennan began her initial examination.

"Pelvic inlet and facial features indicates the decedent is a Caucasian female. I would posit the blunt force trauma to the zygomatic arch and eye orbit as the likely cause of death, but I can't say for certain until we get to the lab."

"So her head was bashed in," Booth added, making a note in his notepad, "Who discovered the body?"

"A couple of the guys who work here stumbled across the remains when they got to work this morning," Cam replied, "But since the site has been closed over Memorial Day weekend the body could have been here for a few days."

"Three days I would say based on insect activity," Hodgins added as he held up one of the creatures for Booth's inspection, "These beauties never lie."

Booth raised his hand to ward off the insect, "Easy there, bug boy, that's close enough."

Hodgins chuckled as Brennan got to her feet, "We need to get the remains back to the lab right away."

Cam addressed the nearby FBI techs, "You heard her. Let's get moving."

)()()()()()()()(

While Booth headed back to the FBI to await word on the victim's ID, Brennan returned to the lab with Cam and Hodgins where they were joined by Angela and Wendell Bray. Once the remains had been laid out on the work table, Brennan began to issue instructions.

"Mr. Bray, please clean the bones and get the skull to Angela as soon as possible. Ange, the substantial damage will make a facial reconstruction difficult."

"Yeah," Angela agreed as she leant forward to give the skull a closer look, "It looks like the teeth have been badly damaged too, so dental records won't be much help."

Brennan frowned, "Perhaps you could use the Angelatron to extrapolate what the complete skull would have looked like based on the side which is still intact."

Angela smiled and nodded, "Don't worry, Sweetie. I'll get you your ID." Turning back to the remains she asked, "Do you have an approximate age for when I search the missing persons database?"

Brennan moved over to the microscope station and pulled the instrument's arm over the victim's scapula. She scrutinized the view through the lens for a few moments before replying, "The size and number of the osteons present indicate she was approximately 30 to 35 years old."

"Okay, thanks," Angela said, "I'll go and fire up my computer. Just bring me the skull when you're ready, Wendell."

"Will do, Angela," Wendell replied with his characteristic enthusiasm. Brennan nodded in satisfaction and headed for her office to begin the case paperwork while she waited for the bones to be cleaned.

)()()()()()()()(

A few hours later, Brennan looked up from the email she was working on when she heard Angela enter the room.

"I'm close to getting an ID, Bren."

"Excellent work, Angela," Brennan replied as she got up from her desk to follow her friend along to her office.

Entering the room Brennan saw that Angela's large computer monitor was filled with a digital rendering of the victim's damaged skull. Grabbing her control pad, Angela began typing in commands.

"Okay, so I scanned the skull and produced a 3D image, then I mapped the undamaged portion of the skull and applied the same facial architecture to the opposite side. Since skulls are usually fairly symmetrical, I could approximate what the complete skull would have looked like before the damage."

Brennan nodded as the image on the monitor changed to reflect what Angela had said.

"Now," Angela continued, "I can apply tissue, hair and eyeballs to give a complete impression of the face."

The image then morphed into that of a woman, perhaps a few years younger than Brennan, with blond hair and brown eyes. As Brennan watched the rendering take shape, she felt something shift within her mind. Like an inkling of something that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

As Angela continued to narrate her actions, Brennan's eyes drifted over to the skull which still sat on the work table. The sound of her friend's voice seemed to fade into a quiet hum as she continued to stare into the vacant eye orbits in search of what was bothering her.

Then, suddenly, the feeling coalesced with perfect clarity and she finally understood what it was.

Recognition.

Brennan swung her head back towards the monitor just as Angela's search of the missing persons database turned up a result. Oblivious to her friend's realization, Angela said, "Here we go. The victim's name is …"

"Natalie!" Brennan exclaimed in shock as she moved closer to the screen, "Her name is Natalie Holden."

Angela turned to her friend in confusion, "Yeah, you're right. Do you know her?"

Brennan's features fell into a look of pure sadness, "I used to, a long time ago. She was my foster sibling."

"Oh, Sweetie," Angela gasped, "I'm so sorry."

Brennan barely heard the words. Even as she tried to stop them, memories she had long since repressed rushed to the forefront of her mind.

 _The sound of a dish, wet and slippery from soap suds, slipping from her hands and smashing into pieces on the floor._

 _The angry yell of her foster father as he grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and dragged her out of the kitchen._

 _The briefest glimpse of another girl, younger than she was, cowering in the corner behind her blond hair. Desperately hoping she would not be next._

"Bren? Brennan! Are you okay?"

Snapping back to the present, Brennan was aware of Angela's hands holding her shoulders and her eyes frantically searching her face.

Shaking her head to clear it, Brennan replied, "Yes. I'm fine, Ange. I'm sorry I must have lost my concentration for a second."

Dropping her hands back to her sides, Angela frowned, "It was more than that, Bren. You looked scared and you've gone really pale. Do you want me to call Booth?"

"No!" Brennan blurted out, before gathering herself and adopting her usual clinical tone, "I mean, please inform him that we have identified the victim and send him all other relevant data. I will go and check on Mr. Bray's progress with the rest of the remains."

Turning away from Angela's concerned gaze, Brennan quickly made for the door.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sweetie?" Angela called out.

Glancing backwards without slowing down, Brennan hastily replied, "Yes, thank you, Angela."

"Yeah," Angela muttered as she watched her friend's retreating form, "Sure you are."

Reaching for her cell phone, Angela resolved to tell Booth everything that had happened, including his partner's reaction to the victim's identity.

)()()()()()()()(

Standing in the bone room with the remains, Brennan chastised herself for only half listening to Wendell's narrative of his discoveries so far. As hard as she tried to compartmentalize her feelings, she couldn't help but look at the bones and see her former foster sister.

When she had first entered the system, Brennan had been placed with Chuck and Janine Watson. An unfriendly and abrasive couple who were clearly only taking in foster kids for the money they got from the government. "Check cashers" as they were known to those unfortunate enough to be in their care.

That "care" had amounted to barely enough food to get through the day and physical and emotional abuse in response to even the smallest infraction. Like accidentally breaking a dish.

Brennan swallowed and forced herself to focus on Wendell's words before the memories could take over again. Just as she was about to ask him a follow up question, a familiar voice sounded from the doorway.

"Bones!"

Booth hurriedly entered the room and walked over to stand beside Brennan. Placing his hand gently on her arm he looked at her with a mixture of love and concern.

"Angela called. Are you okay? Why didn't you call me yourself?"

Brennan shrugged off Booth's hand and walked around to the other side of the table, unconsciously putting some distance between them as Wendell looked on in confusion.

"Angela was perfectly capable of informing you of the victim's identity and I had to get back to the remains."

Booth frowned, seeing through her excuses immediately, "Yeah, but I'm sure Wendell could have handled this one. Considering who this is …"

"I will decide what Mr. Bray can and cannot handle, Booth," Brennan cut him off abruptly, "Now, please leave so we can continue with our work."

Booth sighed and paused for a moment, never breaking her gaze as he studied her face. It broke his heart to see the barely restrained tears that she was trying desperately to keep from escaping. To see the tension in her shoulders and hear the urgency in her voice as she tried to get him to leave before his presence broke her resolve.

A year ago, he might have given in, might have let her cloak herself in science and rationality as a shield against her emotions. But not now. Now, they were partners in every sense of the word, and he couldn't just walk away and let her repress her feelings. She needed his support and he wasn't leaving until she allowed him to provide it.

Clearing his throat and keeping his eyes locked with Brennan's, Booth spoke quietly but firmly, "Wendell, would you mind giving us a minute?"

Booth watched Brennan's eyes flash with anger at his audacity before she spun her head around to glare at Wendell, who had begun to walk towards the door, "I did NOT give you permission to leave, Mr. Bray."

Wendell hesitated under his mentor's withering gaze and glanced uncertainly at Booth, who spoke in the same measured tone as before, "Wendell, please."

"Yeah, sorry, Dr. B," Wendell said as he quickly backed away from Brennan, "I'm obviously in the middle of something here, so I'm just going to leave you guys to it."

Grabbing the case binder so he could at least continue to work while he was elsewhere, Wendell made a hasty retreat before Brennan could chastise him again.

Brennan turned on Booth, "You had no right to dismiss my intern, Booth!"

"I know, Bones, but this time I'm making an exception." Rounding the table slowly and hoping she wouldn't back away, Booth moved towards her and spoke gently, "Look, I know you. I know you're trying to be strong and that you just want to find out what happened to Natalie, but this case is close to home and denying the effect it's having on you is only going to make it harder on you."

Brennan still looked angry, but her features had begun to soften with his words and she had remained where she was. Encouraged by this, Booth closed the final gap between them and took her hands in his.

"Bones, please just talk to me. Tell me what's going on in that big beautiful brain of yours."

Brennan swallowed and set her jaw in an attempt to stop any tears from falling. She was frustrated and angry at how vulnerable she felt and her inability to focus completely on the case. Natalie deserved nothing less than her best, and in that moment she couldn't help but feel that she was failing her.

"Bones?"

Booth lifted his hand and gently stroked the side of her face. Suddenly, all the emotions she had been struggling with since Angela had discovered Natalie's identity spilled over and the tears broke free. She fell against Booth's chest and clutched at his back as she started to sob. Booth sighed sadly and pulled her tightly against him, rubbing his hands in easy circles across her back and murmuring soothing words into her ear.

Feeling safe and secure for the first time in hours, Brennan slowly recovered herself in the shelter of Booth's arms. Pulling away slightly so she could look up into his face, she said resolutely, "I will find out who killed her, Booth. I have to."

Booth nodded and kissed her forehead before settling her back against his chest. "You will, Bones. We will."

)()()()()()()()(

 **So what do you think so far? Have I piqued your interest? I would love to hear from you so please leave me a review, or give the story a follow to let me know you're interested in reading more! Thank you.**

 **Quick note: I realize there is an argument to be made that Brennan would not be allowed to work on the case because she knew the victim personally (like Hodgins and Terence Bancroft), but since the team have worked on the murders of people they've known plenty of times since then (e.g. Brennan's friend Ethan Sawyer), I decided to ignore that little niggle. Besides, the story wouldn't be as good if Brennan wasn't involved in the case, would it? :-)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, favorited and followed this story. You all made me smile and want to keep writing. I love my job but at the moment I wish I didn't have to go to work so I could stay at home and write all the time! I try and make it a policy never to leave more than a week between chapters, but please bear with me if I don't quite manage that. The chapters will be worth the wait, I promise!**

Brennan sank down wearily onto the couch in her office as Booth settled himself in beside her. It had taken some convincing to persuade her to take a break and let Wendell continue the work, but he knew that she needed to talk about how she was feeling before she could focus properly on the case.

Turning to look at Brennan, Booth's breath caught in his throat at the look of sadness and pain he saw in her face. Taking her hand gently in his, Booth rubbed his thumb gently across her skin as he waited for her to speak. After a few measured breaths, Brennan finally spoke.

"Natalie and I were in the system together. I was 15 at the time and she was 12. She had been with the first family I was placed with for about 6 months, and it didn't take long for me to realize that the Watsons were abusing her."

Booth frowned, feeling the first stirrings of anger burn inside of him, "Wait, was this the same family who locked you in the truck of their car for dropping a dish?"

Brennan nodded and Booth's grip on her hand tightened. He would never forget the moment almost 4 years earlier, when Brennan had confided in him and Sweets about what had happened to her while in the foster system. Booth had always suspected that there might have been more incidents of abuse that she hadn't told him about, but he had never wanted to press her into talking about them, knowing from personal experience how difficult it was to discuss painful memories.

"We shared a bedroom in that house," Brennan continued, "And the first night I was there I noticed she had significant bruising on her arms. She had been accustomed to having the room to herself and seemed to momentarily forget that I was there. When she realized that I had seen her injuries she quickly covered them with her bathrobe, as if she were ashamed of them."

Brennan turned to look at Booth, her eyes pleading with him to help her understand, "Why, Booth? Why should she have been ashamed of what they did to her? It wasn't her fault."

Booth sighed sadly and let go of Brennan's hand so he could drape his arm around her shoulders, "No, it wasn't her fault, Bones. Just like what happened to you wasn't your fault."

Booth felt Brennan wince at his comment, but chose to let it pass, "But abuse victims, sometimes they blame themselves for what happens to them. They think that they deserve it somehow, that they're not worth love and compassion."

A tear rolled down Brennan's cheek as she replied softly, "Natalie was worth those things, Booth," she sniffed and sighed deeply, "She tried so hard to please them and not make them angry, but nothing she ever did was good enough. Sometimes I wonder if I could have tried harder to protect her. I was older than she was and I could have done something."

"No, Bones," Booth said firmly, "Please don't think like that, not for a second. You were a minor in their care, just like Natalie was. You are not responsible for what they did to her."

Brennan nodded, "Rationally, I know that's true, however I find that my emotions are in conflict with my mind in this case. I just …," sighing and casting her eyes around the room before looking directly at Booth, "As illogical as it may be, I feel like I failed Natalie then, and I will not fail her again now. I have to get back to her remains so I can determine who killed her and see them brought to justice."

She started to rise before Booth gently tightened his hold on her shoulders, "Wait, Bones."

Sighing, Brennan shook her head and tried to move away, "Please, Booth. I really don't want to discuss this anymore right now. I just want to get back to the case."

Booth nodded, "I know, but if you want to talk some more …"

"I'm fine, Booth," Brennan cut him off sharply, before softening her tone and adding, "I'm sorry. I realize you are just attempting to offer support, however this is not about me, it's about Natalie. I would appreciate it if we could focus our attention on her."

Booth sighed in resignation. He knew that Brennan was anything but fine, but he also knew that getting justice for her childhood friend was something that she desperately needed to do. When she did finally fall apart, he would be there for her with all the love and support he could muster.

"Okay, Bones," giving her shoulder a final squeeze, Booth released her, "Let's focus on the case."

Brennan smiled gratefully, the relief in her eyes painfully apparent, "Thanks, Booth."

Straightening her posture, she asked, "Was Angela able to tell you anything more other than Natalie's identity?"

"Yeah, actually," Booth fished around in his jacket pocket until he located his notebook, "Natalie was reported missing by her boyfriend, Aaron Sanderson, 5 days before her body was found. They have an apartment together in Arlington. I'm going to head over there with Sweets to tell him."

Brennan frowned, "With Sweets? But I usually accompany you to inform family members."

Booth hesitated for a moment before replying, "I know, Bones, but in this case I thought it would be better if you stayed in the lab and let Sweets and I handle this one."

"No," Brennan got to her feet abruptly and turned to face him, her stance and tone of voice brooking no argument, "I knew Natalie and I should be there when you tell her boyfriend. I insist on coming with you."

Sighing, Booth agreed, "Fine, but for the record I don't think this is a good idea. You're way too close to this one."

"I can be professional," Brennan insisted, looking slightly hurt at the implication otherwise.

"Of course you can, Bones," Booth acknowledged as he got to his feet, "I just meant that you're far more invested in this case than normal."

"Yes," Brennan replied matter-of-factly, "Which is all the more reason why I should be there with you."

She moved towards the exit to her office, "We should leave now."

Accepting for the moment that he wasn't going to win this one, Booth sighed heavily and followed Brennan out the door.

)()()()()()()()(

Pressing the buzzer to Sanderson's apartment, Booth was aware of Brennan tapping her foot impatiently next to him, her determined gaze focused on the door. She had been unusually quiet on the ride over, and he had spent the time contemplating how he might convince her to open up and allow him to help her.

A crackling from the intercom demanded his attention, "Hello? Who is it?"

Booth cleared his throat, "Mr. Sanderson, this is Special Agent Seeley Booth from the FBI and my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan. There's an urgent matter we need to discuss with you."

There was a pause for a moment before Sanderson replied, "Yeah, sure. Come on up."

The buzzer sounded again signaling the unlocking of the door, and Booth pushed it open to allow Brennan to enter first. Once inside they made their way upstairs to apartment 2B, where Booth knocked on the door. The sound of approaching footsteps could be heard on the other side shortly before it was pulled open, revealing a man with short, dark hair, an unshaven face and blue eyes which scanned the partners with a wariness that Booth noted instantly.

"Is this about Natalie? Have you found her?"

"Can we come in, Mr. Sanderson?" Booth asked, not wishing to discuss the matter in the hallway.

Sanderson moved aside and Booth and Brennan walked inside the modest apartment. Brennan scanned the room, her eyes moving past the worn out old couch and the vintage record player to a framed photograph on the coffee table. Natalie's smiling eyes looked back at her, and Brennan fought to suppress a shudder at the reminder of the now vacant eye orbits sitting in Natalie's skull back at the lab.

Turning to face them after closing the door, Sanderson asked, "So, have you found her?"

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Sanderson," Booth replied, solemnly, "Natalie's body was discovered this morning in a landfill about 20 miles from here. Our scientists at the Jeffersonian Institution have confirmed her identity. I'm very sorry for your loss."

Sanderson blanched as he covered his mouth with his hand, "God, no! What happened to her?"

Brennan stepped forward, summoning her professional detachment before responding, "The location where her body was found and the injuries she sustained indicate that she was murdered."

Booth glanced warily at Brennan as Sanderson dropped his hand and stepped back in shock, "Murdered? Oh my God! Who would do that to Nat?"

"That's what we're attempting to find out, Mr. Sanderson," Booth replied.

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of Booth's cell phone.

"Excuse me for a minute," Booth said as he walked over to the far side of the room to take the call.

Brennan turned to address Sanderson, "Mr. Sanderson, I feel it is important for you to know that I knew Natalie years ago. We were in foster care together."

Sanderson looked surprised, "You were? Natalie didn't like to talk about that time in her life. Too many bad memories, she said."

Brennan nodded sadly and glanced at Natalie's picture, "Yes, I can understand her reluctance to discuss it. I just wanted you to know that someone who cared about her is working hard to catch her murderer."

"Thank you, that's good to know," Sanderson replied just as Booth finished his call and walked back over to them.

"Mr. Sanderson, you're going to have to come with us."

Brennan turned to Booth in confusion, "What's this about, Booth?"

"That was Angela," Booth replied, shooting a glare in Sanderson's direction, "She did some more digging and found out that the police were called to this address to investigate a domestic disturbance only a week before Natalie disappeared."

Brennan whirled on Sanderson as he stuttered, "Look, that was … it was nothing! We just had an argument and it got a bit heated. The neighbors overreacted and called the cops. I swear I would never hurt her!"

"Yeah, we'll see, pal," Booth said as he moved to grab Sanderson's arm. Before he could, however, Brennan launched herself between them, her eyes flashing with anger as she stood inches from Sanderson's face, "Was it you? Did you kill her? If you did I'll find out! You won't get away with it!"

"Bones, back off! I've got this." Booth gently pulled her aside and took Sanderson's arm and led him towards the door.

Breathing heavily, Brennan felt her heart racing as she tried to calm herself enough to follow them.

)()()()()()()()(

When they arrived at the FBI, Booth handed Sanderson off to a fellow agent to take him to the interrogation room, before heading into his office with Brennan following closely behind. Closing the door after her, Booth sighed and turned towards her.

"Bones, I know you're not going to like it, but I'm putting my foot down this time. Sweets and I will conduct the interrogation. I think you should go back to the lab and work on getting the evidence we need to bust this guy."

"What?" Brennan replied incredulously, "We settled this! I need to be in there."

"No," Booth said firmly, "You don't. I told you that you were too close to this case and what happened back there just proves it. You can't be objective right now."

The same look of anger she had displayed towards Sanderson returned to Brennan's eyes as she responded furiously, "I cannot believe you're doing this to me, Booth!"

Booth could feel his own anger rise. She was so damn frustrating sometimes. "Dammit, Bones! Can't you see I'm trying to do the right thing here? Whether you admit it or not, you're struggling, and it's my job as your partner and the man who loves you to look out for you, both for your sake and for the case. We can't give a defense lawyer any excuse to cast doubt on the investigation, and if you lose control in there you could put the whole case in jeopardy."

Brennan clenched her jaw and looked away, knowing he was right but still reluctant to back down completely.

Seeing an opening, Booth reached forward and took her hands in his and waited for her to meet his gaze. When she did, he allowed his love and concern to show openly in his eyes, "Look, Bones, I love you, and I can't stand what this case is doing to you. I just want to protect you. For once, will you please let me do that?"

Brennan sighed, conflicting emotions warring within her for dominance as she weighed her choices. Finally, she raised her chin defiantly and replied, "Fine, I will not come into the interrogation room with you."

Booth breathed a sigh of relief, which only turned into one of frustration when Brennan continued, "However, I insist on being allowed to observe the interview from behind the glass. I believe that is a fair compromise."

 _The hell it is_ , Booth thought to himself, even as he couldn't help but admire Brennan's determination and willingness to endure her own pain in order to get justice for another's. The look in her eyes as she held his gaze had been familiar to him for years now; she wasn't going to back down, and trying to force her would likely do more harm than good.

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly, "But the second it gets too much …"

"I will return to the lab," Brennan finished for him, "Thank you, Booth."

Pulling her into his arms for a brief but fierce hug, Booth held her tightly for a few moments before drawing back.

"Right, let's go and see what Sanderson has to say. He should be in there with Sweets by now."

Brennan nodded and smiled slightly, giving Booth's hand a quick squeeze before following him out of his office.

)()()()()()()()(

 **So, what do you guys think? Did Natalie's boyfriend kill her, or was it someone else we haven't met yet? Feel free to speculate! The main focus of this story is Brennan confronting her past, but I also wanted to try and develop an interesting case too, almost like an episode. I'm not sure exactly how many chapters this will be, but there's a lot more story still to come! Reviews inspire me and let me know if I'm getting things right or not, so if you feel like leaving one I would really appreciate it. Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all the lovely comments on the previous chapter, they really mean a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this next one. It's longer than I thought it would be, but this story is telling itself now, which is just the way I like it!**

Pushing aside his concern for his partner, Booth entered the interrogation room to find Sweets sitting calmly across from a very agitated looking Aaron Sanderson.

Before Booth could even take a seat, Sanderson leant forward and laid his hands on the table, his eyes fixed on Booth's, "Look, man. I'm telling you I didn't kill Natalie. I know the cops coming around looks bad, but I swear it's not what you think!"

Booth raised his hand to silence Sanderson and sat down next to Sweets, "You get anything yet?"

Sweets shook his head as Sanderson became even more agitated at Booth's refusal to acknowledge him, "No. He just keeps insisting that he didn't kill Ms. Holden."

"That's because I didn't!" Sanderson yelled, his frustration boiling over.

Booth nodded and turned his head to finally address Sanderson, "Okay. Then why don't you tell us what happened the night your neighbors called the police. You and Natalie were having an argument, right?"

Sanderson let out a heavy sigh and leant back in his chair, "Yeah, we were."

"Did the two of you fight often?" Sweets asked.

"Not until recently," Sanderson replied, "We used to be happy. I even thought about asking her to marry me."

Booth frowned, "So what changed?"

Sanderson sighed again, "A few months back, Nat started going to this self-help group. They had meetings a few times a week at a center in town."

"What kind of self-help group?" Booth questioned, "We weren't aware of Natalie having any kind of addiction or other health problem."

"It wasn't like that," Sanderson shook his head, "Future Path is for people who have had some kind of trauma in their past. Like abuse, rape, serious injury, that sort of thing."

"Future Path, yeah, I've heard of them," Sweets spoke up, "They use holistic therapy techniques to encourage their members to confront the issues stemming from their past traumas so they can deal with them and move on."

Booth nodded in understanding and tried not to glance at the one-way glass where he knew Brennan was observing the interrogation, "Natalie was in the group because of the abuse she suffered in the foster care system."

"Yeah, that's right," Sanderson leant forward again, his face forming into an expression of anger, "Her foster father was a real son of a bitch. Nat didn't talk about him much, but what she did tell me was enough to make me want to kill the bastard if I ever saw him."

 _I know the feeling_ , Booth thought to himself.

"You know the guy even locked her in the trunk of his car when she did the slightest thing wrong? What the hell kind of sick bastard does that to a kid? And the wife just went along with it? And as if that wasn't bad enough, the damn government went on and gave them another kid to look after!"

Booth tensed and mentally kicked himself for allowing Brennan to observe the interrogation. Fighting the urge to walk out of the room and go and check on her, Booth clenched his fist against his thigh and tried to focus on what he needed to ask Sanderson.

Unbeknownst to Booth, Brennan too was regretting her insistence on listening in on the questioning. When Booth had first raised the issue of Natalie's past trauma, she had noticed a slight increase in her heartrate and respiration, but had attributed that to the stress of the case. However, when Sanderson began talking about Natalie's former foster father and what he used to do to her, Brennan couldn't deny that she was being adversely affected by what she was hearing.

She knew that she should do as she had promised Booth and head back to the lab, but, somehow, her feet refused to move and she remained rooted to the spot as she heard Sanderson remark, _"And as if that wasn't bad enough, the damn government went on and gave them another kid to look after!"_ As soon as she heard those words, her heart started to race and her breathing became more rapid.

That other kid had been Brennan herself.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Brennan fought in vain to hold back the flood of memories which assaulted her mind. The images before her of the interrogation room and its occupants began to fade as she was unwillingly dragged back to a place in her mind she had locked away for years.

 _It was the morning of her first full day with the Watsons. She hadn't slept much the night before, having been kept awake by fear and a terrible sadness as she tried to adjust to the reality of life without her parents or her brother._

 _She had been nibbling a piece of toast at the kitchen table when she first heard the yelling._

" _Janine! Where is that useless little bitch?!"_

 _Brennan's head snapped up in fear and confusion as Chuck Watson burst into the room, holding a white and navy blue checked shirt in his clenched fist. Casting a scathing glance towards Brennan, he marched over to the kitchen doorway and hollered upstairs to his wife._

" _Janine, get that girl down here! Now!"_

 _Brennan tried not to look at her foster father as she fought to control a shiver that threatened to overcome her whole body. What was happening?_

 _Moments later, Janine Watson appeared in the kitchen shoving a fearful looking Natalie into the room, one hand gripping her shoulder, "She's here."_

 _Chuck Watson turned on Natalie and shook the shirt in her face, "What the hell do you call this?!"_

" _I … um … I …" Natalie stuttered, clearly terrified._

" _It's my good shirt, you stupid girl!" Watson yelled, his face contorting with rage, "The one you were supposed to wash and iron for the meeting I have this afternoon!"_

 _Natalie visibly gulped and tried to respond, "I … I'm sorry, Mr. Watson. I must have left it in the laundry hamper by mistake."_

" _Sorry doesn't put a clean shirt on my back now, does it?" Watson replied bitterly, before addressing his wife, "You know what to do."_

 _Janine Watson nodded at her husband and marched Natalie towards the back door leading to the garage._

 _Stunned by the turn of events in a place she had been told would be safe, Brennan got to her feet, "Where are you taking her? Please don't hurt her. I'm sure she didn't intentionally neglect to wash your shirt."_

 _Chuck Watson rounded on her and before Brennan knew what had happened, he had struck her hard across her face with the back of his hand, causing her to fall back heavily against the table._

" _This doesn't concern you, girl, you hear? Your friend out there is getting what's coming to her, and so will you if you don't pull your head in and do what you're told!"_

 _With that, Watson had turned on his heel and gone out the door, slamming it behind him, leaving a very shaken Brennan standing alone in the kitchen._

Snapping back to the present, Brennan touched her cheek where the blow had fallen years earlier and was surprised to find it wet with tears. Wiping them away furiously, she tried her best to compose herself before throwing open the door of the observation room and striding out towards the elevator, almost walking right into one of the agents in the corridor.

Back in the interrogation room, Sweets sensed the tension emanating from Booth and took up the questioning, "That kind of trauma must have been very hard on Natalie. I would think that you would be happy that she was seeking help for it?"

Sanderson's shoulders slumped, "At first, yeah. I thought it was a great idea. But Nat started getting obsessed."

"Obsessed?" Sweets asked, "In what way?"

"She would come home from meetings all fired up about confronting her past, saying things like she had to 'be the stronger self she couldn't be back then'. I tried to get her to talk to me about it but she just shut me out, said I wouldn't understand. She bought all the books the group leader suggested, quit her waitressing job, started going down to the center even when a meeting wasn't scheduled. I was worried about her."

Booth cleared his throat and took over the questioning again, "Sounds like you resented the amount of time she was spending with the group. Time you thought she should have been spending with you."

Sanderson became agitated again, "No, it wasn't like that! I was worried about her. She was becoming so single-minded and closed off to me. That last fight that we had happened after I found out that she had been giving extra money to the group. She had already paid this month's membership fee so I wanted to know what it was for. She got mad and said it was a donation and I should mind my own business, but it was my money too! Money we were supposed to be saving for our future together."

Booth's eyes narrowed, "I bet that made you angry."

"It did, but only because I was scared I was losing her," Sanderson replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, "When I confronted her about the money, she got so mad. She was screaming at me, saying I didn't understand her like Nick, the group leader, did, and that I was just holding her back. I couldn't make her stop yelling and so I …"

Sanderson looked away, guilt apparent in his pained expression, "You did what, Mr. Sanderson?" Booth asked.

Sighing, Sanderson replied, "I slapped her. It was just once and I regretted it as soon as I'd done it, but I just wanted to make her stop yelling at me and listen. After that she just lost it, and I guess all the noise is what made the neighbors call the cops."

Booth and Sweets said nothing as Sanderson's voice become sad and weary. Leaning forward, he met both the men's eyes before speaking again, "Look, I know you guys suspect me. I get that. But I swear I didn't kill Nat. I would do anything to have her back and tell her how sorry I am and how much I love her."

Booth nodded and prepared to wrap up the questioning, "When was the last time you saw her?"

"About 4 days after that fight," Sanderson answered, "She had barely been at the apartment or speaking to me since then, but when she didn't come home at all for a few days I got worried and reported her missing."

"Okay, Mr. Sanderson," Booth said as he and Sweets got to their feet, "That's it for now, we'll be in touch."

Booth opened the door and gestured for one of the agents outside to escort Sanderson out of the building, "Please don't leave town. We may need to question you again."

"Anything to find out who killed my Nat," Sanderson replied as he left the room.

Closing the door behind him, Booth turned to Sweets, "What do you think?"

Sweets shook his head, "I don't think he did it. His expressions of remorse at his actions and his love for the victim appear genuine, and did you notice how he leant forward every time he denied killing her? If he was guilty, he would have leant back, subconsciously distancing himself from our accusations."

"Agreed, he's not our guy," Booth said, sighing heavily and leaning against the back of the chair he had just vacated. He had hoped for a speedy resolution to the case for Brennan's sake, but it seemed like that wouldn't be possible.

"There's a chance that the leader of the Future Path group could be a viable suspect," Sweets continued, "It sounds like the victim was getting very close to him and spending a lot of time at the center."

Booth nodded before reaching for the door, "Yeah, he's our next stop, but I'd better get Bones back to the lab first. Maybe the squints will have figured out the murder weapon by now."

"Right," Sweets replied, "I'll just head to my office and see what information I can find on Future Path."

The two men left the interrogation room and Booth headed around the corner to the observation room. Opening the door, he was surprised and more than a little concerned to find no sign of his partner.

Frowning, Booth turned to one of the agents nearby, "Hey, Danny? Have you seen Dr. Brennan?"

"Yeah," Danny said, "She left about 5 minutes ago. Almost ran right into me. She seemed pretty upset about something."

 _Dammit_ , Booth thought, before thanking Danny and hurriedly heading for the elevator.

)()()()()()()(

Brennan felt safe in the bone room.

It was a place where she was in control, where her knowledge was surpassed by no one and she could always find the answers she needed.

But not today.

The effects of her earlier flashback still lingered and she was having difficulty concentrating on the bones in front of her. She knew she should call Booth and explain her sudden departure, but she just couldn't bring herself to admit that she hadn't been able to handle the interrogation, just as Booth had said. Sometimes, he knew her better than she knew herself.

"Bones? Are you here?"

A ghost of a smile graced Brennan's lips as she looked up towards the source of the voice. Of course he wouldn't wait for her to call first. He always came after her no matter where she went.

Booth quickly entered the bone room for the second time that day, concern etched on his features.

"Hey," He said as he came over to where she was standing, "I got worried when I realized you had left. Are you okay?"

Brennan swallowed, the carefully constructed composure she had been working on since she left the FBI beginning to crumble in the presence of the only person who could always breach her defenses.

"I …," She sighed, glancing down at the bones laid out on the light table before raising her eyes to Booth's, "You were right, Booth. I shouldn't have been there."

Booth nodded solemnly as he placed both hands on her upper arms, as if to anchor her, "What happened?" He asked softly.

Brennan took a deep breath and a moment to gather her thoughts before responding, "When Sanderson began to talk about the abuse Natalie suffered at the hands of the Watsons, I felt myself becoming agitated. I thought about leaving then, but somehow my feet refused to move."

Booth rubbed his hands soothingly up and down her arms as he waited patiently for her to continue.

"Then, I heard him mention that the government had placed another child in the Watsons' care," Tears began to form in her eyes as she almost whispered her next words, "That child was me, Booth."

"I know, Bones," He pulled her into his arms, "I know."

Allowing herself a few moments of calm in the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm her, Brennan breathed deeply of Booth's familiar and comforting scent, closed her eyes and held on tightly.

After a few precious moments, Brennan pulled away and began to circle the table, her voice taking on an almost hypnotic quality as her fingers lightly graced across Natalie's bones, the light from the table beneath them casting her face in an ethereal glow.

"I found evidence of numerous remodeled fractures from Natalie's youth. Some date from after I left the Watsons', indicating that they continued to abuse her for as long as she remained living with them. Some date from the time I was there."

Booth watched sadly as she picked up one of the bones in question, "Like this one, her right scaphoid. There is a remodeled greenstick fracture, a type of injury more common in pre-adolescents when the bone is still soft and has not yet hardened through calcification. It was caused by her wrist being slammed into a mahogany table."

"How do you know it was a mahogany table?" Booth asked gently.

Brennan raised her eyes to his, her face etched with pain and regret, "Because I saw it happen. I don't remember exactly what prompted the violent response from Chuck Watson on that occasion, but I do remember him slamming her wrist against the kitchen table. She screamed in pain, then she was crying, and I …"

Brennan's voice broke and tears began to make their way down her cheeks. Booth moved closer to her again as she continued, "I just stood there, Booth. I couldn't do anything to help her. I should have tried to help her."

"No, Bones," Booth rushed to reassure her as she gently placed the scaphoid back onto the table. Taking her hands in his, he spoke resolutely, "If you had tried anything he would have hurt you too. You were just a kid, Bones. Nothing that happened was your fault, or Natalie's. Neither of you should have been in that house in the first place."

Tightening his grip on her hands, Booth went on, "Bones, I don't know how much longer this case is going to last, and I know it's going to be hard on you, but I need you to keep talking to me like this, okay? It's the only way I can help you through this, and I want to do that more than anything."

Brennan smiled, "I will try, Booth. I very much appreciate your support."

Booth returned her smile and released her hands, "Have you and the squints made any progress with the evidence?"

"Actually, yes," Brennan replied, "While we were at the FBI, Mr. Bray discovered a perimortem fracture to Natalie's clavicle, indicating that the cause of death was the severing of the left subclavian artery. That artery is fed directly by the aorta, meaning she would have bled to death very quickly."

Booth frowned, "What about the damage to the skull? I thought you figured that was the cause of death?"

Brennan nodded, "Initially, yes. However, upon further examination, it is now apparent that the blunt force trauma to the zygomatic was inflicted post-mortem. For what reason, I am uncertain. As you know, motive is not my strong suit."

Booth smiled slightly, "But it is mine, that's why we're such a good team."

"Yes," Brennan agreed, "I had wondered if perhaps the murderer was attempting to obscure her identity by damaging her teeth, however there is no evidence that her finger pads were damaged, which would mean the killer was not concerned with removing her fingerprints."

"It was rage," Booth said confidently, "Overkill. Whoever did this was seriously angry."

"Aaron Sanderson?" Brennan asked.

Booth shook his head, "No, Sweets and I don't think he did it. We're going to head over to Future Path and check out the leader of the group. Sanderson seemed to think he and Natalie were getting pretty close. Do you have anything on the murder weapon so we know what we're looking for?"

"Hodgins is waiting for results from swabs he took from the clavicle and the skull," Brennan replied, this time not objecting to being excluded from fieldwork, "But if we assume that the same weapon which severed the subclavian artery was also used to damage the zygomatic, then the weapon has a hard, flat surface with curved edges that meet to form a sharp point."

Booth frowned as he tried to picture what that might be as Brennan continued, "Hopefully, Dr. Hodgins will be able to offer further clues as to a more specific weapon."

"Ask and ye shall receive!" Hodgins said happily as he walked into the room.

Booth chuckled at the scientist's enthusiasm, "Good timing, bug boy. What have you got?"

Adopting the usual fervent tone he used when talking about his findings, Hodgins launched into his explanation, "So, I swabbed the injuries to the skull and the clavicle and I found traces of sheet steel, soil, nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium."

Noticing Booth's blank expression, Hodgins elaborated, "The last three are from plant fertilizer."

Booth sighed exasperatedly, "Then why couldn't you just say that?"

Hodgins grinned and continued his analysis, "Given the description you gave me earlier, Dr. B, I would conclude that the murder weapon is a garden shovel."

"Yes," Brennan agreed, "That would certainly match the injuries. The sharp edge of the shovel could have been used to slice the subclavian artery, while the flat surface could easily explain the trauma to the skull. Good work, Dr. Hodgins."

"I live to serve," Hodgins smiled, "I also found something else, both in the swabs I took of the injuries and of the rest of the bones. Traces of polypropylene and other components used in the construction of heavy duty garbage bags, like the ones you would use for garden waste. I think the victim was wrapped in them when her body was transported to the landfill."

Brennan frowned, "But the body was not wrapped in any kind of covering when it was discovered."

"I know," Hodgins acknowledged, "But it's the best explanation for these particulates. Maybe the killer figured that decomp would go faster if the body was exposed to the elements. It wouldn't have been hard to hide a few garbage bags amongst the thousands that are in that landfill. I doubt we would ever find them."

Brennan sighed as Booth addressed the entomologist, "Thanks, Hodgins. That helps. At least now we know what we're looking for."

Hodgins nodded and was about to leave, but turned before he reached the exit, "Dr. B, I just want to say that we're all with you on this one, and we won't rest until we figure out who killed your friend."

"Thank you, Dr. Hodgins," Brennan smiled.

Hodgins returned her smile and left the room.

"Okay," Booth said, "Sweets and I will look out for a shovel and garden waste bags when we go out to the Future Path center. I should probably go and get Sweets now."

Leaning down to press a kiss to her lips, Booth asked, "Will you be okay? I can send Sweets on his own if you need me here?"

Brennan smiled and placed her hands on his chest, "I love you for your concern, Booth, but I will be fine. Your expertise is needed in the field and I feel better knowing you are out there investigating. Besides, I am not alone here. As Hodgins said, my friends are here with me."

"I love you too," Booth said earnestly, "I'll be back as soon as I can. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"I will," Brennan nodded.

Dropping a quick kiss to her forehead, Booth smiled at her one last time then turned and left the room.

Sighing, Brennan turned back to Natalie's bones. She stared at them for a moment, her scattered thoughts coalescing into a single purpose: she would find Natalie's killer. Moving back towards the light table, Brennan returned to her examination.

 **I actually thought this chapter would end a bit further along in the story than this, but I have a lot more story to tell and I don't want to rush it, so this feels like a good place to stop for now. This chapter is a bit late because I have spent a lot of time this week fleshing out my plan for the remaining chapters and I'm really looking forward to writing them. I have some time this weekend so I might be able to get chapter 4 posted soon too.**

 **Since I usually focus more on the emotions of the characters rather than a specific plot in my stories, I'm very anxious to know what you think of how this one is progressing. It's my first attempt at trying to incorporate an actual case into a story alongside the emotions, so your feedback would be hugely appreciated. Thanks so much for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for all the great reviews and private messages for the last chapter. I'm very happy to know that you guys like where this story is going. I'm sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I've been ill recently so I've spent more time sleeping and watching TV than writing! I hope you think it was worth the wait.**

Booth slammed shut the door of his SUV with more force than was strictly necessary. His frustration at the slow progress of the investigation and the effect it was having on Brennan had been growing since he had left the Jeffersonian. Sweets had, for once, been wise enough not to question him on his obvious irritation and had allowed the journey to the Future Path center to pass in relative silence, speaking only to ask Booth to update him on the findings so far.

Striding towards the building, Booth was aware of Sweets hurrying to catch up with him as he swept his eyes across the premises. The center was a relatively small building that looked to house perhaps only four rooms, one of which could be seen through the large windows to the right of the main entrance. Booth squinted his eyes against the sun and could make out a number of people inside seated in a circle – a meeting was obviously in progress. An area of tarmac separated the sidewalk from the building's entrance and was dotted with several planters holding flowers and plants at various stages of growth. What appeared to be a small shed stood against the far wall, and Booth immediately made a mental note to look inside it before they left.

Walking up to the door, Booth didn't bother ringing the buzzer and yanked open the door before making his way inside. Sweets raised his eyebrows but chose not to comment and followed Booth into the building. While he was very concerned about his friend, Sweets knew from past experience that confronting Booth about his feelings would likely be met with denial and hostility, and Sweets was eager to ensure that Booth felt free to be open with him if and when he chose to be.

Once inside it took only seconds to locate the main meeting room Booth had spotted through the windows. Another door separated the room from the hallway where the two men stood and Booth pulled on the handle, sighing in frustration when he found it to be locked. Knocking loudly on the frosted glass panel set into the door, Booth waited until he heard the sound of footsteps on the other side and the click of the deadbolt as it slid open.

The door was pulled back to reveal a man in his forties wearing a checked shirt, blue jeans and white sneakers. His brown hair was short but unkempt and he had an air of a man who cared little about his appearance.

"I'm sorry, guys," the man said apologetically, "You'll need to come back later. We're in the middle of a private meeting right now."

Booth glared unforgivingly at the man he hoped would turn out to be a viable murder suspect and held up his ID badge, "Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI and my associate Dr. Lance Sweets. Sorry to interrupt your meeting but we have some urgent questions for you regarding Natalie Holden."

Sweets scrutinized the man's face as he absorbed this information, looking for any subtle indicators of guilt or nervousness.

The man frowned and replied, "Natalie? She hasn't been here for days, almost a week. I've been worried about her."

Booth's eyes narrowed, "Is that right? And who might you be?"

"I'm Nick," the man replied, before realizing that he ought to be more formal with the FBI, "Nicholas Peters. I'm the convener for the Arlington chapter of the Future Path group."

Booth and Sweets glanced briefly at each other before turning back to Peters, both recalling their interrogation of Aaron Sanderson and his mention of Natalie's fondness for the group leader.

"Is Natalie okay?" Peters continued, "It's not like her to be away for so long. She's one of my most active members."

"No," Booth said bluntly, "She's been murdered, and right now our suspect is the guy she seemed to spend most of her time with."

Peters looked shocked and stepped back slightly, bracing his hand against the doorframe, "What? Natalie's dead? God, that's awful!"

After a few seconds, the rest of Booth's statement seemed to catch up with him, "Wait. You think I did it? I would never hurt Natalie, ask anyone here!"

He swept his arm backwards gesturing to the group of people in the room, many of whom had risen from their seats and were staring curiously at the door.

Sweets could feel Booth's anger rising and stepped in, "Oh, we will, Mr. Peters, but right now it's you who we want to talk to. How about we step outside?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Peters replied hesitantly, apparently still shocked at both the revelation of Natalie's murder and the suggestion that he could be involved. As an afterthought, he called out to the occupants of the room, "I'm sorry about this, everyone. Please talk amongst yourselves until I get back."

Booth pulled the door shut behind them as Sweets led Peters outside. Once the three of them were stood out on the tarmac, Booth cut right to the chase.

"What was your relationship with Natalie Holden?"

"We were friends," Peters said, "Fellow Pathists looking for a way out of the darkness of our pasts."

"This darkness," Sweets remarked, "You're referring to Ms. Holden's experiences in the foster care system?"

Peters nodded, "Yeah, Natalie had a hell of a time with the first family she was with. How the government let her stay with them for so long is beyond me."

"So she confided in you?" Sweets continued.

"Of course," Peters replied, "She confided in all of us, in me more than the others. That's what Future Path is all about; sharing our experiences so we can process them and move on to better futures free from the ghosts of our pasts."

"So what brought you here?" Booth asked, his patience for Peters's flowery language wearing thin.

Peters sighed before meeting Booth's intense gaze, "If you must know, my father beat me and burned me with cigarettes when I was a kid. It's taken me a long time to move past that and to learn to help others move past their own trauma. We do good work here, Agent Booth, and I'm truly sorry that Natalie is no longer with us. She was making good progress in confronting her demons and she will be greatly missed."

Booth glared at Peters, his voice taking on an accusatory tone, "Especially by you, right, Mr. Peters?"

"I don't like what you're implying," Peters replied, his own anger rising, "Natalie and I were friends. That's all. I would never abuse my position as convener to form a relationship with a group member, especially one as vulnerable as she was."

"Her boyfriend seemed to think otherwise," Sweets chimed in, "He said that Natalie claimed that you understood her better than he could."

Peters sighed and nodded, "Look, maybe that's true. It makes sense that two people who have suffered abuse in their pasts would understand each other in ways that might be difficult for others to accept, especially loved ones. That doesn't mean there was anything going on between us."

Seeing they weren't going to get anywhere with the current line of questioning, Booth switched tactics.

"These planters out here," He gestured towards them, "Do you and the group maintain them yourselves?"

Looking relieved to be able to talk about something else, Peters replied, "Yes, gardening is one of the therapy techniques we use here. Cultivating new life helps our members have a purpose and symbolizes their own growth into stronger, happier people."

Booth nodded towards the shed behind them, "Do you keep tools in there?"

"Sure," Peters said, "They were purchased by a joint fund that all the members contributed towards."

"So you all have access to them?" Booth pressed, his mind beginning to form a theory.

"Well, we keep the shed locked to prevent any non-members from taking them," Peters replied, "But the key is kept in the center's office which everyone has access to during center opening hours."

Booth's eyes narrowed as he fixed Peters with an unflinching stare, "So, as convener, you would be the only one with continuous access to the office and the shed key?"

Sweets noted with interest how Peters's hands had begun to clench and unclench as he rounded on Booth, his labored breathing evidencing his agitation, "Agent Booth, I have done nothing but cooperate with you since you got here. You think I killed Natalie? Fine. I know I didn't. If you want to look in the tool shed, go ahead, take anything you want, you don't need a warrant. Everyone here cared about Natalie and I know I speak for all of them when I say that we want her killer brought to justice."

The two men stared at each other for a few moments before Booth spoke through gritted teeth, "We'll be taking you up on that offer, Mr. Peters."

Peters sighed in resignation, "Fine. Give me a minute and I'll get the key from the office."

Booth nodded and Peters headed back inside. Turning to Sweets, Booth asked, "So, what do you think? He seems like a solid suspect to me."

Sweets met Booth's eyes for a moment before replying, "I know you want him to be."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Booth said angrily, crossing his arms defensively across his chest.

Adopting a measured tone, Sweets continued, "I've hesitated to bring this up because I've wanted to be both a supportive friend and colleague on this case, but I'm concerned that your feelings for Dr. Brennan and your worry over how this case is affecting her are clouding your judgement."

Booth's eyes narrowed and Sweets had to fight not to flinch under the intensity of his gaze, "Of course I'm worried about Bones, Sweets, but I'm still a damn good agent and this guy is the best suspect we have!"

"I agree," Sweets rushed to reassure him, "But Dr. Brennan of all people would want us to have solid proof to back up our suspicions, and so far all we have is circumstantial evidence."

Booth looked away as he saw Peters about to walk through the door, "Then let's get something solid."

"Booth …" Sweets shook his head as Booth ignored him and followed Peters to the shed. Sweets followed after them and reached the shed just as Peters unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"There, look at anything you want."

He stepped aside to allow Booth and Sweets to walk inside. It was a tight fit for the two of them but they were both able to stand upright and look around.

It took Booth only moments to locate the item he had been hoping would be found there.

Pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of his pants, he reached into the stack of tools leaning against the wall and withdrew a long handled shovel.

"You ever use this, Mr. Peters?" Booth demanded.

Confusion clouded Peters's features, "For the larger planters, sure. Why?"

Booth couldn't help the note of triumph which entered his voice, "Because Natalie was killed with a garden shovel, a lot like this one according to our scientists. And hey! What do we have here?" He added as he bent down to pull a box from the corner of the shed with his free hand, "These look like the kind of garbage bags her body was wrapped in when it was dumped."

Peters's face drained of color, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead, "Look, man. I don't know what you have against me, but those things are common gardening tools that anyone could have. I'm telling you, I didn't kill Natalie!"

Booth handed the shovel to Sweets and walked out of the shed towards Peters, "We'll let our scientists decide that, pal. You're coming with us."

Booth dragged a protesting Peters back towards the SUV while calling over his shoulder, "Sweets, grab some evidence bags from the trunk and get the shovel and garbage bags."

Sweets sighed and nodded. As he followed Booth to the sidewalk, he had to admit that the evidence was compelling, but that did not shake his concern that his friend was not being the objective agent he had grown to respect and admire over the years. Resolving to keep a close eye on him, Sweets headed to the back of the SUV to get the evidence bags.

)()()()()()()(

Brennan paced nervously back and forth in her office. A few hours earlier, Booth had called to update her about Nicholas Peters and what had been found in the shed. Shortly afterwards, an FBI tech had appeared at the lab with the shovel and the garbage bags, which had quickly been taken by Hodgins and Cam for testing.

Knowing Booth would call as soon as he and Sweets had finished questioning Peters, Brennan had little choice but to wait for the results from Cam and Hodgins. She had gone over Natalie's bones again and was certain that the cause of death was as she had previously concluded – the severing of the left subclavian artery. She had left Mr. Bray with the task of reconstructing Natalie's shattered skull and retreated to her office to update the evidence binder and answer some emails, anything to distract herself while she waited for news.

The time alone had also allowed her to contemplate what Booth had said when they had been in the bone room earlier. This case was affecting her more than she had wanted to admit. Booth wanted her to confide in him about her feelings, but her emotions and memories were ones she had fought for years to suppress and their unexpected and unwelcome return was proving very difficult for her to process. Brennan knew that Booth meant well and she loved him all the more for wanting to help her, but her focus was squarely on finding Natalie's killer. There would be time for her own pain after she got justice for Natalie's.

Brennan was suddenly pulled from her thoughts by a presence in her doorway.

"Hey, Bones."

"Booth?" Brennan walked over to him as her brow crinkled in confusion, "I thought you were going to call after you finished your interrogation?"

Smiling sheepishly, Booth replied, "Yeah, I know. But I wanted to see you and I thought I should be here when the results come in."

Brennan shook her head but couldn't help but smile in return, "While I would usually be irritated by your insistence on checking up on me, I have to admit that I am glad that you're here. I find that I am feeling …" She hesitated for a moment, "… apprehensive, regarding the results of the tests Hodgins and Cam are performing."

Booth took both her hands in his, "Me too. I just want this to be over for you, Bones. I can't stand to see you like this."

Brennan nodded and swallowed hard to keep back any outward sign of the intense emotions swirling inside of her, "Thanks, Booth. Did you get anywhere with Nicholas Peters?"

Booth was about to respond when Hodgins walked into the room. Letting go of Brennan's hands, Booth turned to the entomologist.

"Hodgins, great! Have you got the results?"

A look of regret crossed Hodgins's face and Booth's heart sank. Glancing over at Brennan, he saw his own feelings reflected in her face as she asked dejectedly, "The shovel's not the murder weapon, is it?"

Hodgins shook his head, "I'm sorry, Dr. B. The pH of the soil and the type of fertilizer found on the shovel don't match those found in the victim's injuries. I also spoke to Cam and she couldn't find any blood traces. This shovel isn't the one we're looking for."

"Dammit!" Booth blurted out before he could stop himself. Seeing the distress on Brennan's face, Booth forced himself to calm down.

"What about the garbage bags?" He asked Hodgins.

"Well they do match the particulates found on the body," Hodgins replied, "But they are a very common brand of bag that you could easily find in any number of gardens or allotments."

Booth sighed as Brennan turned to him, her voice sounding more defeated than Booth had ever heard it, "You're going to have to let Peters go, Booth. We don't have the evidence to hold him."

"Yeah," Booth acknowledged, wishing more than anything that the opposite were true.

Hodgins looked sadly at the faces of his friends and spoke gently, "I'm so sorry, guys. We all wanted him to be the one."

"Thanks, Hodgins," Booth answered as Hodgins nodded and left the room.

Booth turned to look at Brennan as she wandered over to her desk, her shoulders slumped and her back turned towards him. Walking quietly up behind her, Booth gently put his hands on her shoulders and whispered gently in her ear, "We will find who did this, Bones. I promise we will."

Brennan suddenly whirled on him, her eyes shining with tears of frustration, "How can you possibly promise that, Booth? We have no murder weapon, no murder scene and no remaining suspects. We have nowhere left to turn!" Her voice broke, "I'm letting her down again, Booth. I've failed her."

Booth felt utterly helpless as Brennan collapsed against him, sobbing quietly. For the first time, he couldn't deny the fear he felt that maybe she was right. How would she cope if they couldn't find the killer, if she couldn't get justice for Natalie a second time? It took only moments for Booth to resolve that giving up was simply not an option. He would have to be strong for Brennan and convince her to keep looking. It was the only way she would find peace.

Both were suddenly pulled from their embrace by a hesitant voice in the doorway, "Hey, I'm sorry to interrupt."

"Sweets? What are you doing here?" Booth asked as he moved in front of Brennan to allow her a moment to compose herself.

Walking gingerly into the room, Sweets replied, "I've been thinking about what Peters said, and I think I might have an idea where we can look next."

Booth shook his head, "It doesn't matter, Sweets. Peters didn't do it. The shovel isn't the murder weapon."

"I suspected as much," Sweets nodded, "His responses during the interrogation were inconsistent with those of a man with a guilty conscience. I think he genuinely cared about Natalie."

Booth bit back a retort at what he felt was an "I told you so" response from Sweets and instead asked, "So what's this idea of yours?"

"Well," Sweets began, "Peters said that Natalie had been making good progress in confronting her past, and it occurred to me that he might have meant that literally as well as symbolically."

"Yeah, so?" Booth asked, frustrated with the psychologist's indirect explanation.

Ignoring Booth's obvious irritation, Sweets directed his response to Brennan who was now standing next to Booth.

"Dr. Brennan, how often does your publisher forward your fan mail to you?"

"My fan mail?" Brennan asked in confusion, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's the easiest way for someone to contact you," Sweets elaborated, "You're a famous author and your fan mail address is readily available online to anyone who wants it. I believe it's possible that Natalie may have reached out to you in her quest to confront the demons of her past."

Booth nodded as his face brightened, "And if she did we might find some clues in the letter about who killed her. Good job, Sweets!"

Sweets smiled and looked expectantly towards Brennan, attempting to gauge her response to his suggestion. After a moment's pause, Brennan replied, "While I would rather put my faith in tangible evidence than the vagaries of psychology, I must admit that in the absence of such evidence it would be prudent to investigate other avenues. I will contact my publisher and request that she forward my most recent batch of fan mail to me immediately."

Booth smiled at Brennan encouragingly while Sweets muttered, "Kind of a backhanded compliment but I guess I'll take it."

Glancing at his watch, Booth put his hand on Brennan's shoulder, "Listen, Bones, it's getting late and it's been a really long day. Why don't you call your publisher and then we'll head home for the night. Christine is probably getting sick of Max by now. Day care ended hours ago."

Brennan smiled wistfully at the thought of her daughter and the comfort of the home they shared with Booth.

"Yes, alright." Brennan moved over to her desk and sat down before picking up her cell phone. Booth gestured for Sweets to walk with him to the other side of the room.

"Listen, about before when we were at the center. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I know you were just looking out for me and I didn't exactly take it well."

Sweets nodded, "It's okay, Booth. I get it. Just try to remember that you and Dr. Brennan are not alone in this. We're your friends and we've all got your backs."

Booth smiled, "Yeah, thanks, Sweets. I appreciate it. So does Bones, even if she doesn't say it."

The two men turned when they heard Brennan finish her conversation, "My publisher is calling her assistant who will arrange to have my fan mail sent here as soon as possible. It should be here by morning."

"Great," Booth replied, "Then let's get home."

Brennan nodded and gathered her things before allowing herself to be led out the door, throwing a grateful smile in Sweets's direction.

 **Just like the previous chapter this one has ended before I thought it would, but the next scene in the story is one that I've been thinking about for years and I want to get it right, so I'm going to wrap things up here for now. I know there was a lot of plot related to the case in this chapter, but I promise there will be more B &B in the next one, so please bear with me! I really hope you're all enjoying this and I would absolutely love some feedback. Thank you for reading! **


	5. Chapter 5

**We're at the halfway point of this story now (I think!) so I just want to say a huge thank you for all the reviews, follows and favorites so far – you guys are awesome. I seem to keep missing my target of posting a chapter a week so I'm sorry about that. I hope you enjoy this one.**

Brennan sighed heavily as she walked through the doorway of their house. She was vaguely aware of Booth following her inside and closing the door behind them as she wearily dropped her bag by the coat stand and shrugged out of her jacket.

She felt completely drained. The case was taking a heavier toll on her than any other and her usual armor of logic and objectivity felt battered and weak. She was not accustomed to feeling so helpless during a case, so out of control. Normally, a body would come into the lab and she would painstakingly reveal its secrets until the truth was laid as bare as the bones themselves. But not this time. It seemed as if Natalie's body had already yielded every clue it had, and yet they were no closer to solving her murder.

A noise from the living area startled her and Brennan looked up to see her father rising slowly from the couch where he had apparently just woken from a nap.

"Hey, Tempe," Max said as he made his way over to where they were standing, "Booth. You both look exhausted. The case must be a tough one, huh?"

Brennan glanced briefly at the floor before lifting her head to look at Booth who instinctively moved closer to her.

"You could say that, yeah," Booth said as he subtly ran his hand reassuringly across Brennan's lower back. She wasn't usually very adept at reading non-verbal communication, but she knew Booth well enough to know what he was thinking. He was giving her the choice as to whether or not she wanted to tell her father the truth about the case. Smiling gratefully, she dipped her head in acknowledgment and moved towards the couch.

"How's Christine?" Brennan asked by way of a brief distraction, "Is she asleep?"

Max frowned, sensing something was very wrong but opting to take his daughter's lead, "Yeah, she's been great," he replied, "Out like a light a few hours ago."

"Good," Brennan replied distractedly as she lowered herself gently to the couch, "That's good. Thank you for watching her for us."

"It's no trouble," Max glanced between his daughter and Booth, who still stood near the door, "Alright, would one of you please tell me what's going on here? I know something's up."

Booth and Brennan exchanged looks until Brennan broke the uneasy silence, "Dad, there are some things I need to tell you about the case we're working on."

"Okay," Max nodded impatiently.

Knowing how painful this conversation was going to be, Booth spoke up, "Look, why don't you sit down, Max. I'll get us some drinks."

Increasingly unnerved by the serious atmosphere in the room, Max took a seat next to Brennan while Booth busied himself fetching a glass of red wine for Brennan and a glass of scotch each for himself and Max.

Max took Brennan's hand in his, concern etched on his worn features, "What is it, honey? You're making an old guy nervous here."

Brennan swallowed hard and took a few moments to prepare herself to tell her father the things about her past she had promised herself she would always keep from him. Drawing strength from Booth's presence nearby and the love she could feel in her father's gaze, Brennan began to speak.

"The body of a woman was discovered in a Virginia landfill and we were called in to investigate. She was murdered, and thus far we have been unsuccessful in identifying her killer or understanding the motivation behind her death."

Max nodded but stayed silent, allowing Brennan the time she needed to explain. At that moment Booth appeared with the drinks and Brennan took hers gratefully, taking a large sip of the rich merlot before continuing.

"Her name was Natalie Holden. We were in the foster system together."

"Oh, honey," Max clasped her hand tighter, "I'm so sorry."

Brennan continued as if she hadn't heard him, "She was in the first home I was placed in. The Watsons. They were …" She hesitated, flicking her eyes to Booth who had seated himself opposite her. What she found in his face was the kind of unconditional love she had always thought she would never have, and the sight of it gave her the strength she needed to give voice to the darkness of her past.

Turning fully to face her father, Brennan continued, "This case is proving to be incredibly difficult for me, not just because I knew the victim, but because this investigation has brought up some very painful memories of my time with the Watsons."

She faltered as she saw realization begin to dawn in Max's eyes, but she forced herself to keep talking, "I know this will be difficult for you to hear, Dad, but I feel that it's important after all this time that I be honest with the people I love about what happened to me while I was in the system."

Max tightened his grip on his scotch and blew out a shaky breath, "Of course, Tempe. I'll hear anything you have to say. Whatever you need, I'm here."

"Thanks, Dad," Brennan whispered softly, momentarily overwhelmed by the love and support she felt emanating from the two men in the room. As Max took a fortifying swig from his glass, Brennan shared another look with Booth. He smiled back at her in the way he always did when he was proud of her for facing difficult emotions and when he wanted to remind her that she wasn't alone.

Turning back to her father, Brennan forged ahead, determined to finish what she had to say, "I was severely mistreated by the Watsons while in their care, particularly by Chuck Watson, as was Natalie. His wife went along with it but he was the worst. He would treat us like we were dirt on the bottom of his shoe, refusing even to use our names most of the time to make us feel like we were nothing. To punish us …"

Brennan paused, forcing back the lump in her throat and the tears that she couldn't stop forming in her eyes. It took everything Booth had to stay where he was and let her continue, when all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and make her pain go away.

Stealing her resolve, Brennan continued, "To punish us for even the smallest infraction, he would either hit us or lock us in the trunk of the car, sometimes for several days. During that time we would be given very little food or water. Only enough to keep us alive so that the government would continue sending them money every month. Natalie and I formed a bond while we were in that hell together, and I am struggling with the fact that I am currently unable to find her killer and bring them to justice. I cannot rest until I do."

When she was finished, a heavy silence fell over the room, broken only when a pale and very shaken Max leant forward and clumsily deposited his glass on the table with a thud and took both of Brennan's hands in his. He opened and closed his mouth several times before finally managing to get the words out.

"God, Tempe, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry, sweetheart," He rubbed the palm of his hand over his face and when he pulled it away Brennan could see evidence of tears, "This is all my fault. You never should have been there in the first place. You should have been with your mother and me where you belonged."

Upset by her father's obvious distress, Brennan tried to reassure him, "You were just trying to protect me by leaving me behind, Dad."

"Yeah, we were," Max acknowledged, "But that was obviously a huge mistake. You would have been better off with us."

Brennan shook her head sadly, "Considering what happened to Mom, that is highly unlikely."

Max suddenly got to his feet, his voice rising with his anger and pain, "Okay, so maybe you wouldn't have been the safest kid in the world, but you would have been loved! Whatever else might have happened, that much I can guarantee."

"No," Brennan rose to her feet too and grasped his hands to force him to look at her, "You and Mom made the right decision in leaving Russ and I. As incredibly painful as the experience was, given the circumstances abandoning us was the best thing you could have done. You had no way of knowing I would end up with people like the Watsons."

Softening her voice, Brennan added, "I would not have been able to accept you back into my life if I had not found a way to forgive you for that."

"Have you?" Max added sadly, looking unconvinced.

Brennan took a deep breath before responding, "I admit that there are occasions when old feelings of mistrust and resentment do resurface, particularly in situations regarding Christine. However, since time travel is impossible and past mistakes cannot be rectified, if I want you in my life then forgiveness is my only choice."

Max nodded at his daughter's seemingly detached assessment of her feelings and smiled slightly, knowing the depth of emotion behind them.

"Why did you never tell me about any of this before?" He asked.

"Because I didn't want to hurt you," Brennan replied, "And I was afraid of what you might do in response."

Max's gaze hardened, "You mean like track down this son of a bitch and give him what's coming to him?"

The fierce anger in his eyes was unnerving as Brennan said, "That would fit your pattern of behavior in such situations, yes."

Booth watched the exchange quietly from his still seated position, watching for any sign that Brennan might need him to intervene. He was immensely proud of her for being so honest with Max, both about her past and her current feelings towards him, and he wanted to make sure that he was there to support her if she needed him.

"Do you think the Watsons could have anything to do with Natalie's murder?"

The question stopped Booth's thoughts in their tracks. He glanced up at Brennan whose face was also frozen in shock at the suggestion.

Recovering quickly, Brennan replied, "No, of course not. They don't reside in Virginia, and it is highly unlikely that they have had any contact with Natalie since she left their home."

"You know that for certain, do you?" Max pressed on, his tone becoming more insistent.

"We have no reason to believe otherwise," Brennan said, her voice wavering slightly.

Max's face fell into a hardened expression as he stated matter-of-factly, "Your friend is dead and you have no other suspects. I would say that's reason enough."

A chill suddenly ran down Brennan's spine at his words. Booth immediately sensed the change in her and got to his feet to stand beside her, his hand settling naturally on her lower back.

"Alright, that's enough, Max. This isn't helping."

Just as Max was about to respond, Christine's cries rang out over the baby monitor sitting on the coffee table.

"I'll get her," Brennan said as she abruptly headed for the stairs.

"Tempe, wait, please," Max implored, hurrying to catch up with her.

Brennan turned around impatiently, "My daughter needs me, Dad."

"I know, honey," Max said apologetically, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For everything. I think it's best that I go now and leave the three of you alone. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

Brennan's tense expression faltered, "Are you sure?"

Max nodded, "Yeah, I need some time to think and you need to rest."

He leant forward and pulled Brennan into a brief but fierce hug, which she returned with equal force.

"Okay, Dad." Pulling free from his embrace, Brennan turned and jogged up the stairs to attend to Christine.

After watching her leave, Max abruptly strode towards the coat stand and grabbed his jacket before making for the door, "I'll see you, Booth."

"Hey, hey, wait up, Max," Booth said, catching up to him just before he pulled open the door.

Fixing him with a glare that was usually reserved for murder suspects he wanted to intimidate, Booth said, "Don't do anything stupid, Max. I know you're upset and hearing what Bones said was rough, but the last thing she needs is you making things worse by going off looking for revenge."

The two men stared at each other for a few moments before Max sighed and shook his head, "I'm an old man now, Booth. I just want my daughter to be happy. I don't intend to let her down again."

"Good," Booth said, "Just as long as we're clear on that."

He searched Max's face for any indication that he was just placating him, needing to be as sure as he could be that Max wouldn't try to take things into his own hands. For a second, Booth could have sworn he saw a flash of fierce determination, a slight stirring of the old Columbus who had gutted and burned a man for even trying to hurt his children. Then it was gone, and Max's features settled into a calmly resigned expression.

"We're clear, Booth. Now, if you don't mind, I could really use some air."

Booth nodded and allowed Max to leave. He stood there for a few moments after the door closed lost in thought, before deciding that his place was upstairs with his family.

Moving quietly up the steps and along the landing, Booth walked up to the doorway of Christine's room. What he saw there made him instantly forget his concerns about Max.

Brennan was standing by Christine's crib holding the bundle of her sleeping daughter close to her chest, swaying slightly, her voice humming a lullaby that Booth vaguely recognized. Brennan smiled when she caught sight of him and he walked into the room. Peering down into his child's face, Booth noted with pleasure that she seemed to have been lulled back to sleep by her mother's gentle administrations.

Booth draped his arm around Brennan's shoulders as they both continued to gaze at the sleeping baby, until after a minute or two Brennan moved away from him to place Christine gently back into her crib.

Straightening up, Brennan turned her tired eyes to Booth's, too emotionally strung out to say anything more. Taking her hand, Booth led her quietly from the room and along the corridor to the master bedroom.

There would be no more words spoken that night.

 **So this chapter is shorter than it should have been thanks to a crisis at work that ate into my writing time this weekend (damn print deadlines!). I had intended to advance the investigation further, however I actually feel that this chapter is okay to stand on its own as an interlude between the more plot-heavy chapters. I hope you guys are okay with that and don't mind waiting a bit longer for the investigation to continue. I promise it will be worth it!**

 **As always I would be delighted to hear your feedback, even if it's just to tell me to hurry up with finding Natalie's killer! Thank you so much for reading.**


	6. Chapter 6

**As always thank you for your feedback for the previous chapter. I really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you thought. I also enjoy reading your theories and suspicions about what will happen next!**

 **As many of you are probably aware, there have been problems with email alerts for new chapters, reviews, PMs etc., over the last week or so. According to the Fiction Press Twitter account these issues have now been fixed, but those of you who are following this story may not have gotten email alerts for chapters 4 and 5, so please make sure you've read those first otherwise you'll be very confused!**

Booth stuck close to Brennan as they made their way through the sliding glass doors into the Medico-Legal lab of the Jeffersonian. He had woken from a fitful sleep that morning to find Brennan missing from her side of the bed. Going downstairs he had found her in the kitchen pouring over her case notes with a pot of coffee next to her. It looked like she had been there for some time, and his questioning of what she was doing earned him an irritated reply that she was looking for something she was convinced she must have missed.

He recognized obsession when he saw it.

Desperate to help Brennan and running out of ideas, Booth had snuck in a call to Sweets while Brennan had been in the shower. The psychologist had instantly recognized Booth's concern and offered to casually "drop in" to the lab and try to engage Brennan in conversation. Booth knew he was likely to get the brush off and the usual "I hate psychology" response, but anything was worth a shot.

For someone as rational and analytical as Brennan, obsession and loss of perspective were not usually issues she had to contend with. Over the years she had mastered the art of taking a step back from the personal aspects of a case and not allowing herself to form any kind of emotional attachments to the victim or their loved ones. She referred to the individual bodies as "the victim" and insisted on a scientific rationale and strict professionalism from both herself and those who worked for her. Although she had mellowed somewhat since knowing Booth, those were still key aspects of her personality and the way she coped with life and death.

It hurt Booth to watch her try and fail to hold onto those qualities in this case.

Striding towards her office with Booth jogging slightly to keep up, Brennan had almost reached the doorway when a voice called out and made her stop and turn towards the speaker.

"Dr. Brennan, Booth. I was just coming to talk to you," Cam said as she caught up to them.

"Did my fan mail arrive from my publisher?" Brennan asked insistently, not bothering with any pleasantries.

Cam nodded, "Yes, a courier dropped off a box about half an hour ago. It's on your desk. Also …"

"Thanks, Cam," Brennan cut in and hurriedly entered her office, making a beeline for the package on her desk.

Cam frowned and turned to Booth, "Is she okay?"

Booth shook his head and gestured for them to move away from the doorway of Brennan's office, where she was now frantically tearing into the box with a pair of scissors she had hurriedly pulled from her desk drawer.

Once they were out of earshot, Booth began to explain, "It's this case, Cam. It's Natalie. Bones is convinced that she's somehow failing her because she can't find who killed her. It's like she's obsessed. I'm getting really worried about her."

Cam nodded sympathetically, "I know, Seeley. We all are. But all we can do is support her and help her to get justice for her friend."

"What if we can't?" Booth asked solemnly, giving voice to the fear that had haunted him since Natalie had been identified, "What if the killer gets away with it? Things aren't looking good right now, Cam. We're out of suspects and so far we don't even know where she was actually killed.

"We'll get him, Seeley," Cam assured him, "This team has never failed to catch a killer and we're not about to start now. We're all determined to find out who did this, that's why I sent Hodgins out to the landfill first thing this morning to try and locate the murder weapon."

Booth's eyebrows rose in surprise, "You did? That's got to be a long shot. Even if the killer did toss the shovel in there, that place has God knows how many tons of garbage in it."

"I know," Cam acknowledged, "But it's all we've got right now and I thought it would be better than just sitting around waiting for more evidence to turn up. Plus," She added with a grin, "You know how much fun Hodgins will have digging through all that trash."

Booth had to smile at that as he pictured the entomologist in his element happily sifting through bugs, slime and other disgusting things. At least someone was feeling useful.

"Thanks, Cam," He said, squeezing his friend's arm gratefully, "I really appreciate the support you're giving me and Bones."

Cam smiled, "Hey, we're a team, G-Man. We're all in this together."

Booth nodded and returned her smile, which turned into a frown when he glanced over at Brennan's office.

"I should go and check on Bones. Thanks again, Cam."

"You're welcome, Seeley," Cam replied as Booth made his way over to the office.

Stepping inside, Booth noticed that Brennan had seated herself on her couch. The box of fan mail had been discarded on her desk and letters were scattered across its surface. Walking towards her, Booth began to tell her what Cam had said.

"Hey, Bones. Cam sent Hodgins to the landfill to look for …"

He stopped short when he reached her. Brennan was sat on the edge of the couch, shoulders hunched over a sheet of paper she held in her shaking hands. Lifting her face to look at him, Booth saw that it was streaked with tears.

Sweets had been right.

Moving around the coffee table, Booth sat himself next to Brennan and gently pulled her back to lean against his chest.

"That's a letter from Natalie, isn't it?" He asked quietly.

Brennan could only nod as she handed the letter to him, too upset to speak. Feeling a deep sadness overcome him for the pain of the woman he loved, Booth took the piece of paper and began to read.

 _Hi Tempe,_

 _I'm not sure if you remember me. I hope you do, but I wouldn't blame you for trying to forget those months we were together. I know I have._

 _I've thought about you a lot over the years, then one day I was in a bookstore and I saw one of your novels on a stand, your first one, I think. I recognized your name but I had to check the picture on the back to make sure it was really you. I'm so proud of you, Tempe. Those monsters tried to make us feel like we were nothing but look what you've become!_

 _Do you remember the first night you moved in? How they dragged me outside and locked me in the trunk of the car because I didn't wash his God damn shirt? I want you to know that I heard you calling out for them to stop. I know you tried to help me. That meant the world to me. Even though I was terrified and in pain you gave me hope that there were good people in the world._

 _That's why I'm contacting you now. I need your help._

 _Things haven't been so great for me. I guess I never got over what they did to me. But lately I've been part of this amazing group, Future Path. You might have heard of them. They help their members to confront the demons of their pasts and move on. That's what I want to do, Tempe. I want to confront them. The Watsons. I need to._

 _I guess they're still in Illinois, maybe even in that same house in Chicago. I was hoping that we could go out there together and find them. That way we could both stand up to them like we couldn't when we were kids and finally get some closure on our pasts._

 _So, what do you say, Tempe? Will you help me? My address and cell number are at the top of this letter. I really hope I hear from you._

 _Love,_

 _Natalie_

Booth was quiet for a few moments as he absorbed what he had just read. He was aware of Brennan sniffling beside him and instinctively tightened his grip on her shoulders. He already knew what this letter would do to her – she would blame herself.

"It's dated from five weeks ago," Brennan suddenly broke the silence, "Five weeks it's been sitting in my publisher's office and I had no idea. If I had gotten that letter earlier I could have talked to her and maybe …"

Brennan turned her tear-filled eyes to Booth, "What if she found them, Booth? What if she went off looking for the Watsons by herself when she didn't hear from me and that's what got her killed?"

"Now wait a minute, Bones," Booth adjusted his positon on the couch so that he was facing her properly, "Natalie's body was found in Virginia and the Watsons are in Illinois. They couldn't have had anything to do with her death."

Brennan's eyes took on an almost frantic expression as she pulled out of his arms and leapt to her feet, swiping angrily at her tears, "But what if my dad was right? We don't know for sure that they're still there. It's been almost 20 years, Booth! People move out of state all the time. They could have even been here on vacation or …"

"Okay, okay," Booth said, getting to his feet to stand in front of her, "I admit it's a possibility, but you don't jump to conclusions, Bones. You look for evidence. Let's ask Angela to look into the Watsons and see if she can find out where they're living now. She can probably access their travel records too if necessary to see if they've been here."

Brennan still looked unconvinced, so Booth placed his hands on her upper arms and began rubbing them reassuringly, "Look, Bones, you're the one who taught me how important it is to be rational and objective in a murder investigation. We need facts before we start running around chasing theories. We gotta do this right."

Sighing, Brennan dropped her gaze back to the letter that Booth had left on the couch. He was right. If she was going to get justice for Natalie, she had to do things in a methodical and rational manner or risk overlooking vital pieces of evidence.

Raising her eyes to Booth's, she momentarily caught her breath at the look of love and concern she found there, before recovering herself and replying, "I know. You're right, Booth. I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," Booth said softly as he pulled her into his arms, "I get why you're acting this way, Bones. I do. I just don't want you to abandon the rational, squinty process that makes you so brilliant."

Brennan smiled and felt a rush of love and gratitude for the wonderful man who understood her so well and always knew the right thing to say. She nodded against his shoulder and hugged him tighter.

Booth ran his hands soothingly across her back for a few moments before movement outside the glass windows of the office caught his eye. Pulling back from Brennan, he kissed her on the forehead then nodded his head towards the windows, "Sweets is here."

"Oh," Brennan said and quickly wiped at her eyes in an attempt to erase the last evidence of her tears and turned to face the doorway.

Sweets entered the office and took in the scene before him, "Hey, guys. Sorry if I'm disturbing you."

"It's alright, Sweets," Brennan replied, "What are you doing here?"

Sweets glanced briefly at Booth and adopted an air of forced casualness, "Oh, you know, I just wanted to drop by, see how things were going."

At Booth's exasperated glare, Sweets added, "I know this is a difficult case for you, Dr. Brennan so I thought I would see if I could offer you any support at this distressing time."

Booth rolled his eyes. _Very subtle, Sweets,_ He thought to himself.

Oblivious to Booth's irritation, Brennan said, "Thank you, Sweets, but I'm okay. However, I am glad that you're here."

Moving back to the couch, Brennan picked up the letter and handed it to Sweets, "You were correct about Natalie's desire to contact me. This is a letter she sent me five weeks ago."

Sweets raised his eyebrows but chose not to comment and instead took the letter and began to read. Sensing Brennan's agitation and feeling the need to do something, Booth said, "I'm going to go and speak to Angela and ask her to get started on the search. I'll be right back, okay?"

Brennan nodded and watched Booth exit her office just as Sweets finished reading.

"Well?" She said, "What do you think?"

"You're asking for my psychological insights?" Sweets asked, surprised.

Sighing, Brennan replied, "While I don't usually put much stock in psychology, you did lead us to this letter in the first place, therefore I have to acknowledge that you may have some valuable contributions to make to this case."

"Wow, okay, thanks," Sweets exclaimed before recovering himself and adopting a more analytical tone, "Natalie was obviously obsessed with confronting her past and had a deep seated need to get justice for the wrongs she suffered as a child. She likely sought out Future Path because they offered her strong support in that regard, although I doubt they meant for her to literally confront the Watsons."

Brennan nodded as he continued, "In seeking you out Natalie was expressing a desire for solidarity in the face of your shared trauma and clearly believed that facing the Watsons and standing up to them would bring her the closure she obviously never found."

"It had become her life," Brennan added sadly.

"Unfortunately, yes," Sweets added sympathetically, "It's not uncommon for childhood trauma to follow a person into adulthood. I should know," He added quietly.

Brennan gasped, "Oh, Sweets. I'm so sorry. I completely forgot that you also suffered abuse as a child. I should have realized that you would have a unique insight into this case even without your psychology training."

Sweets shook his head, "It's okay, Dr. Brennan. You've been completely focused on Natalie and struggling with your own experiences. I understand, and besides, this isn't about me. I just want to help you – if you'll let me."

Brennan smiled, "Thanks, Sweets."

Pausing in thought for a moment, Brennan realized that something besides her general pain and anger was bothering her about Natalie's letter.

"Why didn't I become like her?" She asked softly, "Why did I have the chance to become successful and make something of my life and she didn't?"

"You're feeling guilty about not being there for her when she was alive," Sweets observed gently, "That you weren't able to save her."

Brennan continued as if she hadn't heard him, "I have money, a flourishing career as both a forensic anthropologist and an author, family and friends who love me."

Becoming tearful again, Brennan looked at Sweets imploringly, "I could have helped her, Sweets. If only I had known she needed me. We were both foster kids who were abused by the Watsons. How did our lives turn out so differently?"

Sweets sighed and took a few moments to gather his thoughts, knowing the importance of his next words and recognizing that this was the reason that Booth had asked him to come, "Dr. Brennan, you are an incredibly intelligent and gifted woman. Your abilities allowed you to channel your fear and anger into a strong ambition to succeed in your chosen career. A career which is directly influenced by your childhood experiences and the desire to help others find answers about what happened to their loved ones. Without that drive, it is quite possible that you would have ended up very much like Natalie."

Brennan was silent as a tear slipped down her cheek.

"None of this is your fault, Dr. Brennan," Sweets continued, "You are not responsible for what happened to Natalie. Not then, and not now."

Brennan nodded, "Rationally I know what you're saying is true, but it doesn't change the way I feel. I need to find her killer, Sweets. I can't let Natalie suffer yet another injustice."

"You will find them," Sweets said with certainty, "In the meantime, I'm here if you need to talk."

"Thanks, Sweets," Brennan said gratefully, reminded once again how lucky she was to be surrounded by so many supportive people who cared about her.

Just as Sweets was about to say something else, Booth and Angela suddenly entered the room. Brennan took one look at their somber expressions and tense postures and felt her heart begin to race.

"Bones," Booth said, standing beside her and taking her hand.

Forcing herself to keep breathing normally, Brennan turned fearful eyes to Angela, "You found the Watsons?"

Angela looked as if she would rather do anything else other than deliver the news she had to her best friend.

"I ran a search for Chuck and Janine Watson across several databases. They were living in Chicago until three years ago when the records show that Janine Watson died of bowel cancer."

"Good riddance," Booth muttered.

A few months after that," Angela continued, "Chuck Watson sold their property and moved out of state to …," She hesitated, "I'm so sorry, Sweetie, but he moved to Virginia. His current address is only 15 miles from the landfill where Natalie's body was found."

Brennan gasped and staggered back a few paces before Booth's strong arms caught her, "It's okay, Bones," He whispered, "I've got you."

Brennan's thoughts were rapidly spiraling out of control. Images from her time with the Watsons rushed before her eyes. She saw herself recoiling from a blow from Chuck Watson's fist as she watched Natalie being dragged off to be locked in a car trunk. Remembered the fear and powerlessness she had felt every day she had been there, and now the shock and anger at the possibility that Watson had been the one responsible for Natalie's murder.

"Bones, look at me!" She was jerked out of her thoughts by Booth's urgent tone. Focusing again on her surroundings, Brennan saw the worried faces of her lover and friends staring back at her. The sight calmed her, and slowly her breathing and heart rate came under control.

"I'm okay," She assured them. Addressing Angela, Brennan asked, "Did you find out anything else, Ange?"

Angela looked very reluctant to say anything further and flicked her eyes between Booth and Brennan.

"Just tell her, Angela," Booth said.

Sighing, Angela continued to relay her findings, "Along with his house in Virginia, Chuck Watson also has a share in a privately owned vegetable allotment alongside seven other people."

"Gardening!" Brennan blurted out, "Natalie was killed with a garden shovel." Whirling on Booth, she exclaimed with certainty, "He did it, Booth. Chuck Watson killed Natalie."

Booth nodded, "Yeah, that's certainly what it looks like. Now we have to prove it."

Turning to Sweets, Booth said, "Call the Bureau and let them know what's happening, then get ready to come with me to question Watson."

Brennan grabbed Booth's arm, "Why don't you take me?"

"Are you kidding, Bones?" Booth replied incredulously, "Apart from the fact that you're nowhere near ready to confront Watson, your personal connection to both him and Natalie could compromise the case. He can't know about your involvement, and I'm sorry but there's no way that even you can be objective here."

Brennan stared at Booth intensely for a few moments before sighing in resignation, "Fine, but you should take Mr. Bray with you. There may be evidence at either the allotment or Watson's residence that a trained scientist should be there to examine."

"Agreed, we'll take Wendell," Booth said, "We'll head to the allotment first to see what we can find out."

Taking Brennan's hand, Booth caressed her palm with his thumb in reassurance as he addressed Sweets, "Grab Wendell and bring the car around, I'll meet you down there."

Sweets nodded and gave Brennan an encouraging smile before leaving the room.

"I'll go and see if I can find out anything else that might be helpful," Angela said before pulling Brennan into a brief hug, "I love you, Sweetie. I'll be in my office if you need me."

"Thanks, Ange," Brennan replied gratefully.

When they were alone, Booth took Brennan's other hand and looked at her intently, "Are you going to be okay, Bones? If you need me to stay with you and let Sweets handle this then I will."

Brennan smiled and squeezed his hands, "I know, Booth, but I need you to be the one who questions Watson. There's no one I trust more to find the truth."

Pride swelled in Booth's chest as he gathered her up in his arms, "I love you, Bones, and I promise I won't let this bastard get away with what he's done."

"I know, Booth," Brennan replied, holding on tightly, "I know."

 **I've been building to this since the beginning and now things are really kicking off! I realize that the last chapter might have been a bit disappointing to some of you and not as interesting as the others, but I hope this one made up for that.**

 **I've been really looking forward to writing this chapter and I would so appreciate your thoughts on it so please leave a review and let me know if you liked it. There will probably be another three chapters after this so I hope you'll stick with me until the end. Thank you for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm really sorry that this chapter is so late. I hate making you guys wait but it's been a really rough couple of weeks and I just haven't been able to write. Thankfully, things have settled down a bit now so I've been able to get back to telling this story. I hope you think this chapter was worth waiting for!**

 **Thank you for all your great reviews for the previous chapter. I'm very grateful for all of them, but I want to give a special shout out to Caroline's Bones – Dolphins, who left me the most detailed and thoughtful review I've ever received. I hope you love this chapter, Caroline!**

Sweets and Wendell hurried to get out of the car and catch up to Booth as he charged across the allotment. The three men had journeyed to the scene in tense silence as they each mulled over the implications of the recent revelation that Chuck Watson was in Virginia and now the prime suspect in Natalie's murder.

Wendell had known better than to attempt to engage Booth in conversation when he was this worked up, and had sat quietly in the back thinking through crime scene forensic procedures and rechecking the equipment he had brought from the lab.

Sweets had spent the time suppressing his natural instinct to try to get Booth to talk about the situation and had instead restricted his observations to less than subtle glances in Booth's direction. Each glance had shown the same thing – Booth's jaw set in an angry grimace, his knuckles almost white as he gripped the steering wheel, his body tense and ready for action. All signs of heightened emotional stress and anger. Sweets had felt a surge of anxiety when he realized that, if Booth lost control and attacked Watson, there wasn't a whole lot he or Wendell could do about it.

By the time Sweets and Wendell caught up to Booth, he had already zeroed in on his first target. A man in his forties with cropped black hair and a greying beard scrutinized the trio as he straightened up from a crouched position by a patch of carrots.

"Can I help you folks with something?"

Booth flipped open his ID badge and held it up, "Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI. These are my associates, Dr. Sweets and Mr. Bray. We're looking for Chuck Watson."

The man looked taken aback by Booth's abrupt tone and glanced awkwardly over his shoulder, "Chuck? Yeah, he's around. Went to grab his usual cup of coffee from the cart down the street there. He doesn't usually take long."

Booth sighed in frustration and put his hands on his hips. The energy building inside him was palpable to his friends, and Wendell hung back as Sweets stepped forward to take over the questioning.

"What's your name, sir?"

The man seemed relieved to be speaking to someone who didn't look they wanted to hit something.

"Thomas Maxwell, Doc," He replied, "This here's my land."

"Oh, so you're the owner?" Sweets asked, recalling what Angela had discovered about the allotment, "You rent out patches of this allotment to vegetable gardeners?"

Maxwell nodded, "That's right. There's eight of them, Chuck included. They pay for a piece of land and a share in the van I got over there."

He gestured towards a white transit van which was parked near the entrance of the allotment next to a large shed, "Gives them a way of transporting their vegetables to markets and such."

"And the tools?" Booth cut in impatiently, "Shovels, garbage bags?"

"Yep, those too," Maxwell replied, "It's part of the rental agreement. They can all use the tools in the shed as long as they take care of them."

"What about the van?" Booth continued, "How do they decide who uses it?"

Maxwell dug around in the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded piece of paper, "I make up a schedule every month and give them each a copy. Make sure they all get a fair use of it. The van keys are locked in the shed but they've all got a key for that so they can get to the tools whenever they want."

Booth squared his jaw, his focus narrowing as he began to build a picture in his mind, "Who was using the van on Friday the 22nd?"

"Uh, let's see," Booth couldn't help but tap his foot impatiently on the grass as Maxwell scanned the schedule. Finally, the man looked up and shook his head, "No one that day. It was Memorial Day weekend so none of them needed it. All off doing family stuff, I guess."

"Damn it," Booth muttered under his breath. He had been hoping that Chuck Watson would have been the one using the van on the day Natalie had been murdered. Angela had also discovered that he didn't have access to another vehicle, so if he did kill Natalie, then the van was the likely transportation he would have used to take her body to the landfill.

He should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

Feeling for his friend and wanting to help, Sweets asked, "Is it possible that one of the tenants could have used the van without your knowledge?"

Maxwell cocked his head to the side, "I suppose, it's not like I'm here all the time. But I don't see why they would have. Like I said, no one else wanted it, so any of them could have just asked for it and there wouldn't have been a problem."

Sweets nodded as Wendell spoke up, "Eh, Booth, maybe I should take a look around? See what I can find?"

Booth mentally kicked himself for not having sent Wendell to do just that as soon as they had arrived, "Yeah, thanks, Wendell. Good idea."

He quickly turned to Maxwell, "Is the shed open?"

"Yeah," Maxwell said, "I was just in there earlier."

"Right," Booth addressed Wendell, "Start there. You know what you're looking for."

Wendell nodded and set off for the shed. Booth was just about to ask Maxwell if a shovel had recently gone missing, when movement out of the corner of his eye stopped him cold.

A man who looked to be in about his mid-fifties was walking across the allotment. In one hand he held a plastic cup from which he had just taken a drink, while the other hand wiped a few beads of sweat from his balding head.

It took everything Booth had not to take out his gun.

Chuck Watson strode across the grass whistling to himself while kicking at the stray stones which littered the ground. Without even glancing in the group's direction, he turned to walk down a path leading away from them to another part of the allotment.

Maxwell, oblivious to the inner turmoil of the man in front of him, pointed at Watson, "That's Chuck right there. What do you want with him anyway?"

"Never mind," Booth ground out between clenched teeth as he started off after Watson. Sweets hurriedly thanked Maxwell and jogged after Booth.

"Listen, Booth. I know this is an incredibly tense situation and you're very angry right now, but …"

"Can it, Sweets!" Booth growled, striding ahead for a few more yards before suddenly coming to an abrupt halt.

Sweets stopped beside him and looked at his friend in concern, "Why did you stop?"

Booth was breathing hard and it took him a few moments to respond, "Because you're right, dammit! I'm angry as hell, and I just need a minute to talk myself out of killing this son of a bitch."

Unnerved by Booth's outburst, Sweets muttered nervously, "Okay, yeah, some self-restraint would be good."

The two men stood in silence as Booth tightened the reins on his anger and forced his thoughts into the mindset of a professional agent and not a vengeful lover. After a few moments, he huffed loudly and then began to walk at a slower pace round a corner and into the area of the allotment where Watson had headed.

The man looked up when he caught sight of Booth and Sweets and asked gruffly, "You guys want something?"

Sweets felt Booth tense beside him and opted to begin the questioning, "You're Chuck Watson?"

"Yeah," Watson lifted his chin defiantly, his face taking on an air of suspicion, "And who might you be?"

"I'm Dr. Lance Sweets," Sweets began, "And this is …"

"Special Agent Seeley Booth," Booth cut him off and moved a few paces closer to Watson, "FBI. We're here to ask you a few questions about Natalie Holden."

Booth never took his eyes off Watson, looking for even the smallest twitch that might betray his guilt. But Watson simply took a sip of his coffee and replied nonchalantly, "Natalie Holden? Well, there's a name I've not heard in a long time. Why are you asking me about her?"

Booth clenched and unclenched his fists by his sides a few times before replying, "She's dead. Murdered. You know anything about that?"

Watson looked mildly surprised, "Me? Of course not. Haven't seen the girl in almost 18 years."

"You and your wife were her foster parents," Sweets stated while Booth struggled with another wave of anger.

"That's right," Watson said, "Until she aged out of the system and left our home. Haven't seen her since."

One of the few chords holding Booth's temper in check snapped and he moved even closer to Watson, stopping just outside the man's personal space, "You're lying," He said coldly, fixing Watson with his most intimidating glare.

"Booth …" Sweets cautioned him, concerned about where things were heading. Booth ignored him and continued, his voice rising along with his anger.

"We know what you did to her when she was a kid! We know she found out you were in Virginia and wanted to come looking for you!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Watson responded calmly, which only angered Booth further.

"The hell you don't!" Booth almost yelled, "What happened, huh? Did Natalie confront you? Demand an apology for all those years of abuse?"

Watson set his jaw and refused to react as Booth continued his verbal assault, "I bet that pissed you off, didn't it, Watson? The woman you used to beat up and lock in the trunk of your car finally standing up to you?"

Watson smirked and shook his head, "You're crazy. I don't have to listen to this crap."

He tried to move away but Booth blocked his path. Just as Sweets was getting worried that things were about to escalate, a voice called out from behind them.

"Booth?" Wendell was walking towards them holding up an evidence bag, "I found something."

Stepping away from Watson and taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Booth turned to the young intern, "What is it, Wendell?"

Wendell glanced briefly at Watson before answering, "I used luminol to test the shovels in the shed for blood and I didn't find any, but then I examined the surrounding area and found these trodden into the ground."

He held up the evidence bag, "They're bone shards. Definitely human."

Booth glared at Watson, "Natalie's?"

"I can't say for certain until I get them back to the lab," Wendell replied, "But I've been reassembling the victim's skull and there are a few pieces missing on the side which was bashed in. It's a good bet these are those pieces."

"Good enough for me," Booth clapped Wendell on the shoulder and turned on Watson while pulling out his handcuffs, "Chuck Watson, I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Natalie Holden."

Sweets and Wendell exchanged looks while Booth read Watson his rights and snapped on the handcuffs.

"This is bullshit!" Watson spat angrily as Booth began marching him back across the allotment, closely followed by the others, "You wait 'til I call my lawyer. He's gonna give you hell for this!"

Booth smirked, "Yeah? We'll see what our lawyer has to say about that!" He felt a sense of satisfaction at the thought of Caroline Julian tearing into whoever had the misfortune of representing Watson.

Reaching his truck, Booth locked a still protesting Watson into the back and moved to get into the driver's seat.

"Booth, wait," Sweets stopped him, "You know this isn't enough to get him, right? We still don't have the murder weapon and there are eight other people with access to the allotment. This is far from a sure thing."

Booth sighed irritably, "Yeah, I got that, Sweets. Thanks for your insight."

"I'm sorry, Booth," Sweets replied, "I was just trying to …"

"Look, I know, okay?" Booth cut him off, "We're not done yet. But we finally have the crime scene and new evidence to work with. I can hold him for 24 hours without charge. I know Bones and the squints can get what we need for a conviction."

Sweets nodded and moved out of Booth's way, hoping more than anything that his friend was right.

)()()()()()()(

Having handed Watson over to one of his colleagues to be taken into the interrogation room, Booth walked to his office to call Brennan and give her update. Opening the door and heading for his desk, Booth whirled around when he heard a voice behind him.

"Is that the son of a bitch who hurt my daughter?"

Booth sighed in aggravation when he realized the identity of the speaker, "Jesus, Max! What the hell are you doing in here?"

Max rose from where he had been seated on the chair in the corner and stood in front of Booth.

"Is that him?" He repeated menacingly.

"Yeah," Booth replied, "That's him. I'm just about to question him."

Max fixed Booth with an intense gaze, "Just give me five minutes with him."

"You've got to be kidding!" Booth said exasperatedly, moving past Max and closing the door, "How did you even know he was here?"

"I have my sources," Max replied evasively, "Not that they're what they used to be, mind you. I was sure I was going to find him before you did."

Booth glared at Max, his frustration over the case and his worry for Brennan suddenly finding a new focus. His voice lowered and took on an icy tone.

"And what were you going to do then, Max? Kill him?"

"Yeah," Max answered defiantly, "I was gonna kill him. It's what he deserves, Booth!"

"The justice system decides what he deserves!"

"You can't always trust the system!" Max yelled emphatically, "This is the only way to make sure justice gets done."

Booth suddenly turned and slammed his hand down on the desk behind him, "Dammit, Max! We went through this when you tried to kill the Gravedigger! How will you ending up back in prison help Bones, huh? You think you'll get away with murder a second time?"

Freed from the need to contain his emotions, Booth continued to rail on Max, who stood back in stunned silence, "This isn't about Watson, Max, this is about you. The fact is that Bones never would have ended up in foster care if it hadn't been for your screw ups. It's your fault that she was with the Watsons in the first place and went through that hell. You can't deal with the guilt of that so like you always do you look outside the law to make your problems go away. Well not this time!"

Taking a few deep breaths, Booth lowered his voice, "Now, you've got two choices. Either I can lock you up until this case is over and watch you disappointment Bones again, or you can be the kind of father you should have been all those years ago and be there for your daughter. What's it going to be?"

Booth looked at the stricken face of the man before him and knew he had hit his target. Sighing, he continued more gently, "She needs you to be her father, Max, not her avenger. You have to trust that we'll get this guy."

"But what if you can't, Booth?" Max said sadly, "What if he gets away with it?"

"He won't," Booth said firmly. "Bones and I won't allow it."

The two men stared at each other for a few moments before Max sighed and looked away, "You're right, Booth. I know that. Old habits die hard, I guess. I just can't stand the thought of what that bastard did to my girl."

He hesitated and looked back at Booth, "You won't tell her about this, will you?"

"No," Booth replied, "That would only give her something else to worry about. She's got enough on her mind right now."

Max nodded, "Thanks, Booth," He turned to leave, "I'll pick Christine up from day care so you two can concentrate on the case."

"Great, thanks," Booth said, "Hey, Max?" He added before Max could reach the door, "I mean it this time. Stay out of this."

Max looked conflicted for a moment before he pushed his own feelings aside, "I will, Booth, for Tempe's sake. But you better make damn sure you nail that son of a bitch."

Booth's gaze hardened into a look of fierce determination, "I would die for Bones, Max, and I love her more than I can possibly say. You better believe I'll make him pay for what he did to her. And to Natalie."

A moment of shared understanding passed between the two men over their love for the same woman, before Max turned and left the office.

Booth stood in the center of the room for a minute to gather his thoughts before taking out his cell phone. Brennan answered on the third ring.

" _Brennan."_

"Hey, Bones. It's me. I have Watson in custody."

" _I know. Wendell just returned with the bone shards. We're about to begin examining them."_

"Good. Any word from Hodgins?" He asked, remembering that Cam had sent Hodgins to the landfill that morning to look for the shovel.

" _Yes, actually. I was going to call you. He found a shovel in the landfill which could very well be the murder weapon."_

Booth raised his eyebrows in impressed surprise, "Wait, how the hell did he find it amongst tons of garbage?"

Brennan's voice adopted the squinty tone which Booth was both fond of and at times frustrated by, _"Well, based on the force with which Natalie's injuries were inflicted, Angela was able to calculate the approximate strength of the murderer and estimate the distance that they could have thrown a shovel from the position of Natalie's body and then provide Hodgins with a search radius. Does that make sense?"_

Booth chuckled, "No, but it doesn't matter. As long as he found it. Is Cam testing it for DNA and fingerprints?"

" _For Natalie's blood, yes, but fingerprints will not be of much use. From what Wendell said the allotment's gardening tools are communal and we will likely find the fingerprints of all the tenants and the owner on the shovel, meaning that any one of them could have wielded it when killing Natalie."_

"Yeah," Booth agreed, "But we know which one did, and as long as Watson's fingerprints are on it then we can still use it as evidence against him."

Brennan was silent for a moment and Booth suddenly wished he were there beside her.

"Bones?"

He heard her sigh and then reply, _"It's not enough, Booth. Even with the murder weapon, the crime scene and Natalie's bones, we still don't have any direct evidence tying Watson to her murder."_

Booth tried not to think about the similar doubts expressed by Sweets and Max as he rushed to reassure her, "Not yet, Bones. But we only just found the crime scene and the bone shards. Who knows what that brilliant mind of yours will discover once you've looked at them. In the meantime, I'm going to sweet talk Caroline into getting us a warrant for the allotment van. Since Watson doesn't have his own vehicle it's likely that he used it to transport Natalie's body to the landfill."

Booth heard the smile in Brennan's voice as she replied, _"Thanks, Booth."_

Pressing the phone tighter against his ear in a subconscious effort to be closer to her, Booth injected as much love and reassurance into his voice as he could, "Listen, Bones, this isn't over. We're going to get this guy. I promise. I'll call you after I finish the interrogation. I love you."

" _I love you too, Booth. I'll talk to you later."_

Booth continued to hold the phone even after she had hung up, giving himself a few moments to prepare for what lay ahead. He had made a promise to the woman he loved, and he intended to keep it.

 **I think this is my favorite of all the chapters so far and I'm really looking forward to writing the next one. Apologies again for the delay in posting this chapter, I'll do my best to make sure you get the next one on time.**

 **It would mean a lot to me to get your feedback so please leave a review and let me know what you thought. As always thank you for reading.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I appreciate it so much.**

 **I'm really sorry this is another late chapter. I could go into a long explanation as to why, but I'm sure you would much rather read about Booth and Brennan's lives than mine, so let's get on with it!**

Shortly after hanging up the phone from his call to Brennan, Booth made his way towards the interrogation room. His steps were slow and measured as he attempted to bring his anger under control before questioning Watson.

Sweets was already installed behind the glass in the next room, having agreed to observe the interrogation while Caroline joined Booth inside.

Rounding the corner, Booth caught sight of the sassy lawyer waiting for him.

"Hey, Caroline," Booth said brusquely, "You ready to go in?"

"Just a minute, Cher," Caroline held up her hand to stop him, "I want a word with you first."

Booth sighed and put his hands on his hips, "Damn it I don't have time for this, Caroline, okay? I have to question this guy now and get what we need to bust him!"

Caroline set her jaw and cocked her head to the side, completely unfazed by Booth's attitude.

"Now you watch your mouth there, Seeley Booth, you hear me? You are fired up hotter than a barbeque! You are no good to me or your lady love in the state you're in. You go in there and compromise this case, you will never forgive yourself. Not to mention I would have to smack you in your pretty face."

Booth couldn't help but smile at Caroline's words as she continued, "Now, I called in some favors to get your warrant and the squints should have the allotment van within a few hours. In the meantime, you keep your temper in check in there," She raised her eyebrow menacingly, "I would hate to have to hurt you."

Booth chuckled, the moment of levity a welcome relief from the tension and anger, "Thanks, Caroline."

Caroline nodded once in acknowledgement, "Good, now let's get in there and make this weasel squirm."

She opened the door to the interrogation room and marched in purposely, closely followed by Booth. Watson was seated back casually in his chair, a smirk on his face and his arms folded across his chest.

Caroline took her seat and clasped her hands on the table in front of her, fixing Watson with an intimidating glare while Booth remained standing behind her, his eyes never leaving Watson's face.

"Mr. Watson, I need you to confirm that you consent to questioning without your lawyer present. You have the right to request that we wait until he arrives."

Watson huffed and shrugged, "Makes no difference to me whether he's here on not. I've got nothing to hide."

"Mmmhmm," Caroline murmured, "We'll see about that."

Booth pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against and took a seat next to Caroline, forcing himself to appear relaxed and in control.

"Alright, Mr. Watson, where were you on Friday the 22nd?"

"At home," Watson replied, "Watching some crap on TV, having a beer or two. I'm a pretty simple guy, you know."

"A pretty simple murderer," Caroline cut in, causing Watson to smirk condescendingly in her direction.

Booth set his jaw and clenched his fist under the table, Watson's indifferent attitude fraying his nerves as he forced himself to continue the questioning.

"When was the last time you used the allotment van?"

"I guess that would be about a month back," Watson answered as casually as if he were recounting the weather report, "I took some of my vegetables over to the Alexandria Farmers' Market. Haven't needed it since."

"Is that right?" Booth asked, leaning forward, "You didn't need it on the 22nd? Maybe to head out to the landfill?"

"Nope," Watson replied nonchalantly, "Got no reason to go there. All the allotment waste goes to composting."

"Yeah, see the thing is," Booth locked eyes with Watson and almost growled, "We don't think you were out there dumping garden waste, do we, Caroline?"

The lawyer leant forward and mirrored Booth's posture, her voice taking on a stern edge, "No, we think you were out there getting rid of a body. Natalie Holden's, to be exact."

Watson sighed loudly, "For God's sake, this again? I told you that I have not seen her for almost 18 years. Which I'm glad about, by the way. That girl was nothing but trouble all the years she was in my home."

Booth's mouth twitched as he fought the urge to reach over the table and grab Watson by the throat.

Acutely aware of the tension mounting in the man next to her, Caroline took up the questioning.

"Well maybe she troubled you again, say on the 22nd? Maybe you got mad and bashed her head in after you sliced her with a shovel. Sound familiar?"

Watson smirked, "As if I'd risk prison on a waste of space like her. Ungrateful little bitch, she never appreciated what my wife and I did for her."

Booth had launched to his feet and rounded the table before Caroline could draw breath to stop him.

"You son of a bitch!" Grabbing Watson by the collar, Booth dragged him to his feet and slammed him against the wall.

Watching from his position behind the glass, Sweets jumped in shock at Booth's outburst and looked on helplessly as his friend yelled in Watson's face.

"What you did for her, was abuse and humiliate her for years while she was in your care! I don't care how much you deny it, I know you killed her, and I'll be damned if I let you get away with it!"

"Agent Booth, please!"

The blood pounding in Booth's ears and his labored breathing meant it took a few seconds before he heard Caroline's shout. He blinked in shock and stood frozen for a moment before releasing Watson and backing away.

He hadn't meant to lose control and was furious with himself for potentially compromising the case, but there was a part of him that couldn't help but feel a sense of visceral satisfaction at having released some of his pent up aggression.

As he had listened to Watson denigrate the pain and suffering he had put Natalie through, Booth couldn't help but picture Brennan in the same situation, and the fragile control he had on his emotions had snapped.

He could sense the glare Caroline was shooting in his direction without even looking at her. He had done exactly what she had told him not to do.

Watson rubbed his neck and whirled on Caroline, "Hey, that's assault! You gonna sit there and allow this?"

Caroline flicked her eyes angrily towards Booth before addressing Watson in a tone of forced indifference, "I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't see a thing. Must have been the glow of these lights shining off your bald head."

Pacing anxiously behind the glass, Sweets nodded and muttered to himself, "That did not happen. Nope. Didn't see it."

Watson advanced on Caroline, "You can't insult me! I have rights!"

Booth stepped forward to block Watson's advance, "Yeah, and so did Natalie."

The two men glared at each other for a few moments before Watson yanked out his chair and sat back down.

"The hell with this! I've changed my mind. I'm not answering any more questions until my lawyer gets here."

"Fine, have it your way," Caroline got to her feet, "You better make yourself comfortable. You're going to be here for a while."

Turning for the door, Caroline looked back when she realized that Booth was not following her. The agent's eyes had never left Watson's and he looked very much like he was trying to figure out if he could get away with strangling the man right there in the FBI building.

"Agent Booth," Caroline said forcefully, "We're done here for now."

Her words seemed to shake Booth out of his thoughts and, after shooting one final disgusted look at Watson, he made his way to the door and out into the corridor.

Caroline rounded on Booth the moment he closed the door behind them.

"Did I or did I not specifically warn you about keeping a tight rein on your temper in there? This is not an open and shut case, Booth! This is a fragile situation. You can't just go roughing up suspects whenever they say something that makes you mad."

Caroline smacked Booth hard in the arm, "Unlike me, who can rough you up any time I please when you get my temper going!"

Booth winced. The angry lawyer could pack quite a punch when she wanted to.

"Hell," Caroline continued, "All we need now is Max Kennan to show up and pull one of his gut-spilling, fire-setting stunts and we'll have blown the whole case to hell!"

Booth thought it was probably not a good idea to tell Caroline that he had already thwarted Max's attempt to do just that.

Sighing, Caroline looked at Booth with a mix of frustration and concern, "Look, Booth, if I need to call in another agent to replace you, then you had better tell me right now. I will not have you compromise this case because you can't control yourself, you understand me?"

Still shaken and ashamed by his earlier outburst, Booth could only nod in acknowledgement and hope that the regret he knew was now evident on his face would be enough to placate Caroline.

The two shared a long look before Caroline broke the silence, "Okay then, glad we cleared that up."

Stepping closer to Booth, Caroline lowered her voice sympathetically, "Look, Cher, I know how much you love that partner of yours, and how much you want to kill the person who hurt her, but you ending up in prison for murder while that monster walks free will do nobody any good, least of all Dr. Brennan. It's time you put your own desire for revenge aside and be there for the woman you love."

The irony of Caroline giving him the same speech that he had given Max earlier was not lost on Booth, and he smiled in gratitude.

"Thanks, Caroline. I'm really glad you're with us on this one."

Smiling in return, Caroline replied, "You can thank me after we close this case. I will accept a plate full of doughnuts from the diner as a token of your appreciation."

Booth chuckled, "Deal. I might even throw in a pastry or two."

"Now you're talking!" Caroline grinned before her face turned serious again, "Let me go and chase up that warrant for the van. Give those squints something new to sink their teeth into. I'll let you know as soon as I have it."

Turning around and striding off down the corridor, Caroline called back over her shoulder, "Jelly doughnuts, Booth! A whole plateful!"

Booth shook his head and chuckled to himself, grateful to have the support of a fierce ally like Caroline Julian.

Glancing behind him when he heard the door to the adjacent room open, Booth saw Sweets coming towards him, "Hey, you okay, Booth?"

Booth sighed heavily, "I'm fine, Sweets. I just lost my temper in there for a minute."

"No," Sweets shook his head emphatically, "You're not fine at all. This is the second time today that you've had an outburst of anger towards Watson. What would have happened if you had been alone with him in there, Booth? Would you have stopped yourself from trying to kill him?"

Booth advanced on Sweets, his voice rising to match his growing anger, "Why don't you tell me, Sweets? You seem to think you have all the answers!"

"I don't know, Booth," Sweets admitted, "And that's what scares me. You are a good man who lives by a strict set of morals that preclude you from taking a life unless absolutely necessary. You defend the innocent and pursue truth and justice, right?"

Booth nodded, frustrated with the psychologist's incessant questioning, "Yeah, of course. Where are you going with this?"

Sweets took a deep breath before continuing, not wishing to be the target of Booth's wrath but knowing that he had to voice his concerns.

"Those morals work well when you're doing your job as an FBI agent, and they served you well while you were a sniper, but you're not an agent right now, Booth. You're a man who is being forced to watch the woman he loves struggle with the pain and sadness caused by someone who shows neither remorse nor regard for his victims. Worse still, you're afraid that he might get away with what he's done, and that neither you nor Dr. Brennan will be able to live with that."

Booth looked away and sighed heavily as the undeniable truth of Sweets's words began to sink in. Seeing the impact he was having, Sweets continued.

"You're being driven by fear and anger, Booth, and I wouldn't be a good friend or psychologist if I didn't recommend that you seriously consider whether or not you can continue with this case."

Booth was quiet for several moments as he allowed himself to consider Sweets's suggestion, before quickly coming to a resolution.

"Look, I'm sorry, Sweets. I know you're just trying to help, but I have to do this. If I handed this case off to another agent and Watson walked, I would always wonder if I could have done more. I couldn't look Bones in the face every day knowing that I had let her down like that."

Sweets nodded in understanding, "I get that, Booth, I really do, but you can't keep losing control like you did in there. That'll just give Watson's lawyer more ammunition and put the case at risk."

"I know," Booth agreed, "And you know what? I bet that's exactly what that bastard wants. He's used to being able to bully and manipulate people into getting what he wants."

"Exactly," Sweets replied forcefully, "But you're not going to let him do that, are you, Booth? You're going to take control of this situation and get the upper hand, like you always do, and you're going to make sure that Watson goes down for what he did. And we're all going to help you."

Booth smiled, feeling stronger and more in control that he had since the case had begun.

"Thanks for the reminder, Sweets," He sighed and spoke with quiet conviction, "You know, ever since this case started, all I've wanted was to get justice for Bones and Natalie and make Watson pay for what he's done. But you're right. I can't do that if I let him get to me. I won't give him that satisfaction."

Sweets grinned, "Then let's get going. I'll analyze Watson's behavior while you go and pick up the van."

Booth nodded and clapped Sweets on the shoulder before heading off down the corridor.

)()()()()()()()(

It had been a few hours since Brennan had spoken to Booth. She had spent the time examining the bone shards with Wendell while simultaneously trying not to let her mind wander and wonder how Booth was doing questioning Watson and how Cam was coming along with her forensic examination of the shovel. Bothering either of them would only slow them down, and she wanted this to be over as quickly as possible.

The bone shards were indeed from Natalie's skull, as Wendell had suspected, but that was all the shards had been able to tell them.

Brennan was bitterly frustrated. How could they have the complete set of remains, the probable murder weapon and the crime scene and yet still be no closer to positively identifying the killer? She had solved murders with far less evidence in the past, and not for the first time she wondered if her close ties to the case were causing her to overlook something which would normally have been obvious.

Her anxious musings were interrupted by Cam entering her office, "Dr. Brennan, I've finished my examination of the shovel."

"Is it the murder weapon?" Brennan asked eagerly.

Cam nodded, "The blood on the blade is a match for Natalie Holden's. This was definitely the shovel that was used to sever the subclavian artery."

Brennan sighed in relief, "And the fingerprints?"

"There were numerous sets on the handle," Cam replied, "All belonging to the allotment tenants and the owner, including Chuck Watson."

"As I suspected," Brennan acknowledged regretfully, "There is no conclusive evidence to prove that he was the one who wielded the shovel and killed Natalie. His lawyer could easily argue that any of the other allotment users could have committed the murder."

"That's true," Cam admitted, "However, I just got a call from Caroline. She got a warrant to search the allotment van, it's on its way here now. Maybe we can find the evidence we're looking for when we examine it. "

"Excellent," Brennan replied, "Did she mention anything about the interrogation?"

Cam hesitated for a moment, "No, only that Booth was on his way here with the van."

Brennan frowned, "That means that the questioning did not last for very long. That is usually not a good sign."

Cam touched Brennan's arm reassuringly, "Try not to worry, Dr. Brennan. Booth's no quitter and neither are we. We'll keep going until we find out what happened to your friend."

Brennan smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Cam. Your support is very much appreciated."

Cam nodded and was just about to reply when Booth's voice rang out from the main floor of the lab.

"Okay, guys! Just ease the van down here, nice and slow. I don't want any evidence compromised."

The two women shared a brief look of anticipation before rushing out of Brennan's office. They were greeted with the sight of the transit van being lowered from the back of a small transport truck onto the large open space by the doors to the lab. Not for the first time, Brennan was glad that it was set up to receive large pieces of evidence, this not being the first vehicle to be examined there.

Summoned by Booth's shouts, Hodgins, Angela and Wendell walked away from their work areas and moved to stand beside Brennan and Cam. They watched as the van was set down and the transport truck and its driver dismissed by a clearly tense Booth.

Noticing the gathering of his friends, Booth walked over to the group and shared a brief smile with Brennan before addressing them.

"Alright, Caroline got us the van for however long it takes to find what we need. Tear it apart."

Not needing to be asked twice, Brennan and the team quickly gathered up the necessary equipment from their offices and workstations and swarmed over the vehicle. Booth looked on in impressed silence as each of them set about looking for the evidence they would need to nail Watson. Talking rapidly one after the other, the scientists appeared to move as one harmonious unit as they got to work.

"Mr. Bray, you and I will search for probative evidence while Dr. Saroyan tests for DNA."

"You got it, Dr. Brennan."

"And Angela …"

"I'm on it, Sweetie. I'm going to take high resolution digital photographs of every inch of this van so we don't miss anything."

"I'm taking the air filter first. Maybe I can find some particulates that will prove the van was taken to the landfill. After that I'll look for any other useful trace evidence."

"Good thinking, Hodgins. I'm going to start my search for DNA in the back as that's most likely where the victim's body would have been placed on the way to the landfill."

"I guess I'll just take a seat then," Booth said to himself, determined to stay and support his partner and friends in their search for answers.

)()()()()()()()(

A few hours later, Booth found himself in the bone room with Brennan and Wendell as they examined Natalie's remains in what was increasingly feeling like a futile effort to find something they had missed. The rest of the team were busy running tests on the evidence they had found in the van, and Booth felt completely helpless as he watched Brennan become more frustrated with each passing minute as her formidable intellect continued to fail her.

"We must be missing something!"

Brennan's raised voice forced Booth from his thoughts as he glanced between her and Wendell.

"Dr. Brennan," Wendell said hesitantly, "We've been over every inch of these bones at least three times. Apart from a missing shard of bone in the skull, I can't see what we could be overlooking."

Booth looked on in concern as Brennan sighed heavily. He could see the struggle written all over her face and longed to take her in his arms, but knowing how important her professional demeanor was to her, Booth was unwilling to compromise that in front of Wendell.

"You're certain that you collected every bone shard from the crime scene?" Brennan asked.

Wendell nodded, "I'm certain, Dr. Brennan. I was very thorough. The missing shard definitely wasn't at the allotment."

Brennan frowned, certain that this detail was important but unable to grasp the reason why.

Searching his mind for a way to support Brennan without being overly affectionate, Booth was interrupted by the sudden entry of Cam, Hodgins and Angela.

Booth turned to them and asked eagerly, "Please tell me you guys found something?"

"We did," Cam replied, "But unfortunately nothing that points to Chuck Watson specifically."

Booth flicked his eyes to Brennan's as his heart sank, "Why am I not surprised?"

Looks of regret crossed the faces of their friends as Brennan took a moment to compose herself before asking, "Please just tell us what you found?"

"Okay," Cam began, "I found small traces of the victim's blood in the back of the van indicating that her body was transported in the vehicle. In the cabin I found fingerprints from all eight of the allotment tenants and the owner, meaning that any of them could have been driving the van on the day in question. "

"And I found particulates in both the air filter and the tires that prove that the van was driven to the landfill where Natalie's body was found," Hodgins added.

Booth nodded, "So we have the method the killer used to transport the body to the landfill, great. What else?"

Cam shook her head as her features fell into a look of sincere sympathy, "I'm sorry, Seeley, but that's all we found. There are just too many possible suspects to narrow this down."

"But Watson is the only one who had a personal connection to the victim!" Booth exclaimed in frustration, "We have the body, the crime scene, the murder weapon and the method of disposal. How the hell can we not nail this guy?"

The room was silent as a collective feeling of hopelessness and fear gripped its occupants. Finally, Brennan spoke quietly, her eyes downcast and her expression one of complete and utter sadness.

"He's going to get away with it," She almost whispered, "I've failed her. All the hundreds of murders I have helped solve over the years, including my own mother's, and I can't solve this one. After everything she went through, there will be no justice for Natalie."

Booth felt his heart break at the despair in his partner's voice and searched desperately for a way to comfort her. Finally, he made a decision.

Rounding the light table and standing in front of Brennan, Booth placed his hands on her shoulders and forced himself to ignore the other people in the room. In that moment it didn't matter about being professional, all that mattered was helping Brennan be the scientist she needed to be to solve Natalie's murder. Focusing his gaze completely on the woman he loved, Booth spoke the words he hoped would get through to her.

"Bones, just forget for a minute that you know the victim, okay? That you have any history with her or the murder suspect. Do what you always do and use that brilliant brain of yours to find the piece of the puzzle we're all missing."

Moving closer to her, Booth cupped her face and stared intently into her eyes, "You can do it, Bones. I'm right here. Just close your eyes and let it happen."

For a moment it looked as though Brennan was fighting back tears, but the love and support she felt from Booth and her friends strengthened her resolve. Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, Brennan allowed her eyes to close and do the one thing she had been afraid to do since the case had begun.

Visualize Natalie's murder.

The ambient sounds of the lab and Booth's proximity faded away as, in her mind's eye, Brennan watched the murder unfold.

 _Out on the allotment by the tool shed, Natalie was yelling at Watson while he held a shovel in his hand, apparently having been about to put it away when she had confronted him._

 _Natalie was in tears, desperate to get some answers as to why he and his wife had so badly mistreated her, demanding an apology for the years of abuse._

 _Watson had advanced on her, threatened her, but Natalie had refused to back down._

 _Overcome by anger, Watson had swung the shovel upwards and severed Natalie's left subclavian artery._

 _As she fell to the ground, blood pooling around her and soaking into the grass, Watson had swung the shovel again and shattered the left side of Natalie's skull, resulting in the bone shards that Wendell would later discover._

 _Watson had acted quickly, grabbing some nearby garden waste bags and wrapping up Natalie's body, moving around her lifeless remains as he wrestled her into the bags, his heavy gardening boots making impressions in the ground as he dragged her into the back of the van._

Suddenly, Brennan's thoughts snapped back to the present and she opened her eyes to find Booth staring at her intently. Smiling for what felt like the first time in days, Brennan spoke with the confidence of someone who had finally found what she had been looking for.

"I know where the missing bone shard is."

 **So I'm leaving this one on a bit of a cliffhanger because there's only one more chapter left and I wanted to keep you interested right up until the end.**

 **I would love to know what you thought so if you have a spare few minutes please leave me a review. Even a few words would be greatly appreciated. I'll post the final chapter as soon as I can. Thanks so much for reading.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Well we've finally reached the last chapter, and I just want to say a HUGE thank you for all the reviews, PMs, favorites and follows I've had for this story. You guys are awesome and have made the writing process even more enjoyable. A special thank you to those of you who have reviewed/sent me PMs for multiple chapters, I always enjoyed reading what you thought. I've particularly enjoyed getting PMs with your theories about what was going to happen next, like where the missing bone shard is, which you'll find out about soon!**

 **Now, on with the grand finale! I really hope you like it.**

"I know where the missing bone shard is."

Brennan's realization was like a bolt of lightning that shot through the room and set everyone's hearts racing. Especially Booth's. He felt the worry which had been squeezing his chest since the case had begun start to lessen as he watched Brennan's trademark certainty and self-confidence return to her eyes. It was as if she were transforming back into the version of herself he knew and loved; the one who never let a murderer walk free.

"I need Watson's gardening boots."

Brennan's abrupt statement pulled Booth's attention back to the moment and he frowned in confusion.

"His boots?"

"Yes!" Brennan nodded emphatically, "The bone shards from Natalie's skull would have been strewn across the grass as Watson was maneuvering her body into the van. It is very possible that he stepped on the missing bone shard which could have caused it to become wedged in the treads of one of his boots."

Booth grinned, "That's brilliant, Bones! If you're right then we can tie Watson directly to the murder."

Brennan smiled back before suddenly faltering, a little of her earlier doubt returning, "Was he wearing boots when you arrested him? It's possible that he disposed of them after the murder, meaning …"

"Hey, hey," Booth said soothingly, "I'm pretty sure he was wearing the boots you're after, but if not then we'll get a warrant to take every pair he's got from his house. I don't care if we have to sift through his garbage even, we'll find them."

Brennan glanced between Booth's reassuring gaze and the supportive looks her friends were offering and breathed out slowly, knowing she would need to stay focused.

"You're right, of course. You'll go and get them now?" She asked eagerly.

"Right now," Booth said before leaning forward and kissing her briefly on the forehead, "I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

Brennan nodded, "Okay, thank you."

Booth smiled at her once more and turned to leave, surreptitiously catching the eyes of the others in the room.

" _Take care of her,"_ he communicated silently, making sure they all understood. Brennan would likely drive herself crazy until she held the evidence in her hands, and if he couldn't be there to support her himself then he needed to know that their friends were looking out for her.

He needn't have worried. As soon as he stepped away, the group moved closer to Brennan, offering quiet words of reassurance while Angela pulled her best friend into a hug.

Nodding in satisfaction that Brennan would be okay until he returned, Booth pulled out his cell phone as he headed for the doors of the lab. His call was answered after a few short rings.

"Caroline, how would you like to earn yourself another plate of jelly donuts?"

)()()()()()()()(

Booth strode towards the interrogation room as soon as he arrived at the FBI. He was met there once again by his favorite prosecutor.

"Did you get the warrant for the boots?" He asked hurriedly.

Caroline raised her eyebrow, "Well good afternoon to you too, Cher. Since I don't see any sugary treats in your possession, I'm going to advise you to be a little nicer to me."

Booth smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry. I just want to get this guy and this could be the breakthrough we've been looking of for."

Caroline's mouth lifted in a crooked smile, "So, Dr. Brennan came through with the goods, huh?"

"Always does," Booth replied proudly.

Caroline nodded, "Good. Well I called the judge, who I assure you is bitterly regretting the bet he lost to me a few years back that's got him fast tracking these warrants for me."

Grinning, Booth said, "Now there's a story I'd like to hear!"

"Ain't never gonna happen, Cher," Caroline waggled her finger at him, "No matter how many times you flash those pretty brown eyes at me."

Booth smiled, filing the information away for another day.

"Anyway," Caroline continued, "An agent is in there now retrieving the boots Watson is currently wearing, and I have a team on standby to head out to his home if those aren't the ones you need."

"Thank you, Caroline," Booth said gratefully, "Really."

Caroline was about to reply when the door to the interrogation room opened and an agent appeared holding an evidence bag containing Watson's muddy boots.

"Here you go, Agent Booth," the young man held up the bag and handed it to Booth.

"Thanks, Agent Charlton," Booth took the bag, "Did he give you any trouble?"

Charlton huffed, "He complained his feet will get cold."

"Fine by me," Caroline shrugged before fixing Booth with an intense glare, "Why are you still standing there, Booth? Go! Get those boots back to the lab!"

"I'm going, I'm going!" Booth replied and practically ran in the direction of the doors that would lead him out to the parking lot.

)()()()()()()()(

The wait for Booth's return was torturous for Brennan.

Minutes felt like hours as she paced the confines of the bone room while her friends' attempts to reassure her fell on deaf ears.

What if she was wrong? What if the missing bone shard wasn't where she thought it was and she once again failed to find the evidence she needed?

It was a thought she couldn't bear.

Witnessing the turmoil in her friend's features, Cam decided to take charge of the situation.

"Dr. Brennan, how about we all just take a few minutes to focus our minds and review all the evidence we have so far? That way we'll be ready when Booth gets here."

Brennan nodded, "That seems wise."

"Good," Cam replied, "Wendell?"

Wendell stepped forward, glancing briefly at Brennan before focusing on the bones laid out before him, "Okay, my examination of the victim's bones revealed a perimortem fracture to the clavicle, proving that her death resulted from the severing of the left subclavian artery and subsequent hemorrhaging. This was followed by a significant blow to the skull inflicted post-mortem, which shattered the skull on one side and left the bone shards I discovered at the allotment."

Cam nodded, "DNA and blood samples belonging to the victim that I found on the shovel Hodgins identified confirmed that it was the murder weapon, while other samples found in the back of the allotment van proved that it was the vehicle used to transport the body."

Hodgins took up the narrative, "Particulates in the van's air filter and tires showed that it was driven to the landfill where the body was dumped. I also determined that the garbage bags found at the allotment were a match to those that were used to wrap up the remains."

Angela continued, "We also have the letter proving Watson's violent past with Natalie, plus his lack of alibi and the fact that he had access to the van, shovel and garbage bags."

"However," Brennan added reluctantly, "The other allotment tenants and the owner also had access to those things, and we have no witnesses who saw Natalie and Watson together. Furthermore, there is no DNA evidence tying Watson specifically to the murder, and no way to prove that he was even there that day."

Wendell nodded, "We need a smoking gun."

"It's the missing bone shard," Brennan said, "It has to be."

"Booth will be here soon, Sweetie," Angela said reassuringly, rubbing her arm, "We'll find it."

As if on cue, a tense and slightly out of breath Booth suddenly rushed into the room.

"I've got them, Bones."

Quickly making his way over to the light table, Booth handed the bag containing the boots to Brennan, who smiled gratefully and placed it carefully on the edge while she snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

Opening the bag, Brennan carefully extracted the right boot and placed it under the large microscope fixed to a nearby table. She stared keenly through the lens, looking for any sign of the bone shard.

Nothing.

She sighed in frustration and felt the tension rise in the group standing behind her.

Pushing away her anxiety and forcing herself to remain focused, Brennan laid the right boot aside and reached for the left one, positioning it carefully under the lens and taking a deep breath.

For a few moments she saw nothing but dirt and small fragments of grit embedded in the treads, then, her practiced eye discerned a sliver of something else. Hastily, she reached across the small table and grabbed a bottle of saline, squirting a small amount over the muddy area and washing away the dirt to reveal what was underneath.

She smiled.

Grabbing a pair of surgical tweezers, she delicately extracted the missing bone shard before placing it into an empty petri dish.

The faces of her friends shone with pride and satisfaction as Brennan took the dish and moved over to set it down beside Natalie's skull. Carefully, she picked up the shard again and placed it into the small hole it had left in the zygomatic, before withdrawing her hand and grinning.

"It's a match!" Wendell exclaimed excitedly.

Booth could only smile with love and admiration as he said, "You got him, Bones. You got him."

Brennan nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. There would be justice for Natalie after all.

)()()()()()()()(

When Booth approached the interrogation room containing Watson for the third time, he did so with more confidence and certainty than he had felt since arresting him.

Joining Caroline inside, Booth took a seat opposite Watson and his lawyer, Mr. Holt. Caroline turned to Booth and nodded subtly, having already been given the news about the bone shard and agreeing to keep it quiet until Booth arrived.

Still certain of his fate as a soon-to-be free man, Watson smiled smugly at Booth and asked cockily, "Am I gonna be getting my boots back soon? My feet are getting cold in this damn room."

Booth smiled mirthlessly, "Don't worry, they'll give you a nice new pair where you're going."

A slight flicker of uncertainty appeared in Watson's eyes for a second before it disappeared as his lawyer addressed Booth.

"Agent Booth, Ms. Julian has laid out the evidence you have against my client. Frankly, all you have is circumstantial. There are at least seven other people at the allotment who could have committed the murder."

Booth nodded, "True, but the thing is, they all have alibis. It being Memorial Day weekend and all, there were lots of barbeques and family gatherings. Plenty of witnesses who place them in locations other than the allotment on the day of the murder."

"Be that as it may," Holt replied, undeterred, "You have no material witnesses or DNA evidence proving Mr. Watson killed Ms. Holden. You'll never get a conviction."

Caroline's mouth rose in a sly smile, "You sure about that?"

Booth smiled briefly at Caroline before turning his head and nodding in the direction of the one-way glass, before turning back to Watson and fixing him with an intense stare.

Less than thirty seconds passed in silence before the door behind Booth opened and Brennan entered the room.

Watson's face immediately registered shock and anger, followed by a discernible hint of fear.

Standing and placing her hands authoritatively on the table before her, Caroline said loudly, "Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to world renowned forensic anthropologist Dr. Temperance Brennan."

Brennan walked slowly up to the table and glared at Watson.

"You!" He exclaimed.

Brennan's eyes narrowed and her voice took on more venom than Booth had ever heard her use, "Yes. Me."

The two continued to stare each other down as Watson's lawyer demanded, "What is going on here? Who is this woman?"

Brennan's eyes never left Watson's as she replied, "I had the misfortune of being one of Mr. Watson's foster children at the same time as Natalie. I witnessed him and his wife verbally and physically abuse her, and experienced the same myself. I am now a highly accomplished forensic anthropologist who assists the FBI in solving murder cases. Just like this one."

Watson's gaze faltered and Booth noted with satisfaction the hint of sweat that was forming on his brow as his lawyer addressed Brennan.

"Dr. Brennan, from what I've seen here, you haven't solved anything. As I was just telling Agent Booth and Ms. Julian, you have no definitive evidence tying my client to the murder of Ms. Holden."

Wordlessly, Brennan pulled a small evidence bag containing a single plastic container from her jacket pocket and set it down on the table in front of her.

"I'm world renowned for a reason, Mr. Holt."

Watson glared at the bag before him and sputtered, "What the hell is that?"

"It's a bone shard I recovered from your left gardening boot," Brennan said icily, "It came from Natalie's skull."

Clearly flustered, Watson attempted to cover his nervousness with his usual bravado, "So what? I must have trodden on it sometime after she was killed. Doesn't mean I'm the one who killed her."

Booth tensed and flicked his eyes to Brennan's, concerned that Watson's denial would make her falter. However, one look at the resolve in her steely blue eyes told him all he needed to know. He had been right to allow her to be here for this. Now that they had the proof they needed, it was only right that she be the one to put the final nail in Watson's coffin.

 _She's got this_ , he thought proudly, a small smile beginning to form on his face. _That's my Bones._

Ignoring Watson's claim, Brennan continued, "You are the only possible suspect who has a personal connection to the victim, and the only one without an alibi. I have a letter she sent to me five weeks before her murder in which she specifically references the abuse we both suffered at your hands and her desire to confront you about it. Which is exactly what she did, and you killed her for it."

Watson remained silent, the anger in his face growing with each passing second.

"Sure as hell convinced me," Caroline said smugly, "And you better believe I'll convince a jury."

"We've got you, you son of a bitch," Booth uttered in satisfaction as Watson's lawyer looked on in shock.

"You know," Brennan said, leaning closer to Watson across the table, channeling all her pent up fear and anger into her words, "If you hadn't felt the need to shatter the side of Natalie's skull after she was already dead, there would never have been a bone shard for me to find."

Watson's face blanched as the reality of Brennan's words sunk in even as she continued to speak, "You and your wife abused Natalie and I while we were vulnerable, innocent children in your care. You locked us in the trunk of your car and left us there for days. Now, my partner and I are going to lock you up for the rest of your life."

"Which shouldn't be too long, by the way," Booth added smugly, "Virginia has the death penalty. I'm sure your fellow inmates will make your final days interesting, given how much they love child abusers, wouldn't you say, Caroline?"

"Sure would, Cher," Caroline replied, smiling in satisfaction.

"Now wait a minute," Holt interjected, "This is a conflict of interest. Dr. Brennan can't testify to the motive of abuse as an impartial witness."

Irritated by the other lawyer's protest, Caroline replied forcefully, "She doesn't need to. We have the letter from Ms. Holden attesting to the abuse she suffered from your client. Dr. Brennan will be testifying about that bone shard there, and believe me, you don't want this woman or her team of brainiac scientists standing against you. I'm gonna enjoy prosecuting this one."

She looked pointedly at Booth, "And having me some delicious jelly donuts."

Booth grinned as Watson muttered, "Ungrateful little bitches. Both of you."

The grin was wiped from Booth's face as he rose from his chair and moved threateningly towards Watson. Brennan shook her head and raised her hand to stop him before turning back to Watson.

"You have no power to hurt me anymore. You're nothing but a pitiful coward who needed to beat defenseless girls to feel like you were somebody. What you say means nothing to me."

The room was silent as Brennan's words hung heavily in the air, before Booth moved around the table and took hold of Watson's arms and pulled him upwards from his chair.

"Chuck Watson, I am officially charging you with the murder of Natalie Holden."

Brennan nodded in satisfaction and relief. She had given Natalie and herself the justice they both deserved.

)()()()()()()()(

The funeral was held three days later in Alexandria's Ivy Hill Cemetery. The entire team from the Jeffersonian stood beside Brennan and Booth as they watched the beautifully carved mahogany coffin being lowered gently into the ground.

They were flanked by Aaron Sanderson, Natalie's boyfriend, along with Nick Peters and other members of the Future Path group. Brennan was also aware of her father's silent presence nearby, grateful that he had come along to support her.

When the burial was complete, the crowd began to talk quietly amongst themselves. Sanderson walked up to Brennan and held out his hand gratefully.

"Dr. Brennan, thank you so much for organizing all this," he gestured towards where the coffin lay and the elaborate bouquets of flowers, "I could never have afforded something like this."

Brennan graciously accepted his hand and smiled sadly, "It was the least I could do for Natalie."

"You found out who killed her," Sanderson said earnestly, "You already did Nat a great service. I'll always be grateful for that."

Brennan squeezed his hand tightly and then released it, sniffling to hold back the tears she felt gathering behind her eyes.

Attuned as he always was to Brennan's emotions, Booth left his conversation with Cam and walked over to Brennan, placing his hand on the small of her back and rubbing the spot gently. Sanderson nodded respectfully and walked away, while Brennan turned to Booth and allowed herself to be pulled into his arms.

"You okay, Bones?" Booth whispered quietly into her ear.

Brennan nodded against his neck, "I am extremely gratified that Watson will pay for what he's done, however, I find myself deeply saddened that I will never have the chance to know the woman Natalie became."

"I understand," Booth replied sympathetically, squeezing her tightly, "But you did give her one thing she wanted. Natalie wanted you to confront Watson and get justice just as much as she wanted it for herself. You've been carrying around the pain and guilt of those months with the Watsons since you were 15, now you get to let that go and move on with your life. I think that's a great way to honor Natalie's memory."

Tears streamed from Brennan's eyes and settled into the fabric of Booth's jacket. Too overcome with emotion to speak, she simply nodded and allowed Booth to hold her.

A few moments later, the pair became aware of a presence nearby. They pulled apart reluctantly and turned to find Max approaching them.

"Sorry, kids," he said holding up his hands apologetically, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay, Tempe? I'm afraid I need to head off now."

Brennan smiled and hastily wiped her eyes, "I'm alright, Dad, thank you."

Max put his hands in his pockets and looked pointedly at Booth, "I'm glad everything turned out okay in the end. That bastard deserves what he gets."

Booth merely shook his head and rolled his eyes, resolved as he was not to reveal Max's near attempt to serve justice on Watson himself. There was no need to cause Brennan any further pain or concern.

"Yes, Max," Booth replied carefully, "That's the justice system at work."

The two men shared a look as Brennan frowned, sure that something was amiss between the two men but too emotionally drained to try and satisfy her curiosity.

The moment passed quickly and Max turned his gaze back to his daughter, "I'll be going now, Tempe."

He pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek, "I love you, honey, and I'm so proud of you for how you've handled all this. If you ever want to talk about that time in your life again, I'll be here."

Brennan smiled gratefully at her father's selfless show of support, "Thank you, Dad. I appreciate that, but I think I'm ready to move on from that part of my past now."

"Okay," Max nodded in acceptance, "I'll see you again soon." He smiled at his daughter and shared a brief glance with Booth before he turned and walked away.

Booth put his arm around Brennan's shoulders as her gaze drifted back to where Natalie's coffin now rested. A wistful look appeared on her face for a moment before it melted away into a peaceful smile.

She was really okay now.

Booth smiled and pulled her close again, settling his arms around her body as he felt hers encircle his waist. They breathed deeply of the crisp, Spring air and took a few moments to appreciate the life they had together, before turning as one and heading out of the cemetery.

 **I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter and that it was a satisfying ending. I have LOVED writing it and I would greatly appreciate your thoughts. Thank you so much for reading this story.**

 **I'm off on holiday for a few weeks soon but I'll be back in September with more Bones stories, so if you like the way I write then please add me to your author alert list so you don't miss any future updates! Thank you.**


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